


Free Show

by cutiepiejane



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 19 year old Eren, Cam Model Eren, Clothes pins but no clothes to be found, FBI Agent Levi, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Porn With Plot, Rope Bondage, Surveillance, Voyeurism, it's later down the road, levi is so oblivious, no self control, this all seems like an elaborate plan for levi to get laid but i promise it's more than that, wet dreams, which means super tall eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-05-28 05:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiepiejane/pseuds/cutiepiejane
Summary: Having been assigned to monitor a young man under suspicion of prostitution, Levi was ready to handle the case with the same professionalism he handled every case he's ever been assigned to. Until he saw who the boy was. Or more specifically what he did in his spare time.





	1. Chapter 1

When I joined the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I took an oath of confidentiality and professionalism.

Neither of those two things were upheld in the branch I was working under.

"Fuck off, Four-eyes." I mutter at the sound of a chair coming to a rolling stop next to my desk.

"Awh, come on, Levi. My guy hasn't logged into his computer in over two hours, there's nothing interesting going on over there." Two hands come up and rest on my shoulders. I shake them off and continue staring at my screen. The woman next to me huffs and leans in to watch my screen. Not that anything I was working on was particularly interesting, either. How long one person could scroll on Craigslist in search for cocaine? A very, very long time.

 

My head perks up at the sound of strong footsteps approaching my desk. I look up at the shining blonde face of none other than our director, Erwin. In his hands is a manila folder and red ink labeling it as confidential. A word with lost meaning here.

"You're being reassigned. Look over the case carefully and you'll know what to do." He tosses the folder on my desk, a few of the papers peaking out. "I'll collect all of the information about your previous case at the end of the day. This assignment is effective immediately.”

"Sure thing, commander." I reply sardonically, picking up the folder. Flipping it open, it’s a standard case file. Included is an IP address, most recent copy of search history, social security number, etc. There's also paperwork for referral for blacklisting and interrogations. Standard shit. Turning the pages, I look over the case.

"Suspicion of prostitution!" Hange, the named four-eyes next to me, pipes in. "Thank god, nothing ruins the office mood like child pornography cases. At least it's legal porn you'll be dealing with."

"It's a pretty calm assignment to have me reassigned to." I mutter back.

I continue reading, ignoring her hanging over my shoulder. Eren Yeager, 19, male. 6 foot, 150 pounds. Studying English at Trost University, 3.2 GPA, prescriptions for Zoloft and a medical marijuana card, and loads of other bullshit that doesn't contribute to my work. On the back, however, holds copies of his passport, driver's license and school ID picture.

Brown hair was pulled back into a messy half ponytail, dark eyebrows framed bright green eyes and the slope of his lips were pulled down into a frown for his drivers license. Scanning it and then over to his passport, it was a stark contrast to the young face from only a few years back. Wide eyed and smiling, I felt a curiosity growing in my stomach over the broody face in his recent photos.

"Holy shit, he's a looker." Hange all but whispers in my ear. "Oh! And an organ donor!"

"Go check on your drug lord and get out of my goddamn space." I bark. She laughs, but returns to her own computer.

"Oh! Just in time, he's on PornHub!" She squeals, popping her head over to give me a grin. "Oh, hentai? You sick fucker." I hear her say lowly.

I return to reading the case, flipping back to the page of his identification cards on occasion. Making sure to read every word on the page, I was still cautious for the reason Erwin decided to switch my case so suddenly. He could have assigned it to anyone else.

But nothing peculiar came up.

Peculiar for my line of work, at least.

I check my watch, standing up and stretching my arms over my head. I look over to Hange, her face nearly glued to her screen. Walking up to her, she's oblivious to my presence and I quickly think about pushing her head into the screen, but hold back when I see what she's watching. An animated girl is getting fucked by purple tentacles, mouth open and tongue hanging out. Next to it, the image of a fat man moving his hand way too fast and looking disinterested is displayed.

"He's still at it?" I ask, leaning down to her level. She nods her head, brown ponytail flopping around.

"Impressive, no?"

"No." I straighten, holding back a yawn. "I'm leaving." I say, packing up my laptop and slipping the manila folder safely in my bag. Before I leave, I stop by Erwin’s office to hand him all of my work pertaining to my previous case. Out of curiosity, I ask.

 

“Why reassign me? Couldn’t this gone to someone else?”

 

He looks up from his paperwork, bushy eyebrow raised. “I have my reasons.”

 

I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say, you ominous fuck.”

 

\----------------

I pour a glass of wine, settling down into my chair and opening my bulky black laptop. Bringing up my doxing program, I type in the IP address provided on my paperwork and revel in the screen copy that pops up. Activating the webcam, I'm almost surprised it shows up an image. You would think by now more people would have their built in cameras covered, but their ignorance makes my job easier.

A white walled room appears, a few movie and game related paraphernalia I recognize hanging up in an effort to decorate. Scanning the room, a messy bed in the corner catches my eye. Rather, a messy mop of brown hair catches my eye. Lying on his side, the man under question rests with an arm over his exposed stomach, phone held in the other hand in front of his face. With lazy flicks of the thumb, he lies like that for nearly thirty minutes, not even changing his position. Referring back to the paper, I hack into his telephone and the screen pops up in a window on my computer. Lining it up next to the webcam stream, I view with him the feed of some blue website resembling Instagram that has him so entranced.

Watching people is like watching paint dry. Only every now and again the paint will start to look up weird shit on the internet and I have to document it. So far, the only thing I've got jotted down is how boring he is.

Truth be told, any evidence we find here, no matter how compelling or cut and dry it may be, cannot be upheld in a court of law. Names can be marked and flagged and illegal purchases can be intercepted, but even if I have live video of someone committing murder -- and there are files and files of it -- we cannot release it in court. Invasion of privacy bullshit we have to pretend we abide by. It’s a game of wait and see, act like we had anonymous tips sent in to help further a case or get the information we need and set decoys.

Nearly two hours pass, and I stand to pour myself another glass of wine. By the time I return, he's gotten up and left the room. Rolling my eyes for choosing the best time to leave, I settle back into position and continue to watch. Moments later he returns, grey sweatpants hanging low on narrow hips. Even through the shitty quality of his webcam, I'm able to make out how toned he is.

I can hear him sigh, low and long before sitting in front of his computer. I sit up a little, able to get a view of the scruff on his face and the tired bags under his eyes highlighted by the blue light of the screen. Staring down at his keyboard, I watch as he types in Chaturrbate. But instead of clicking on one of the many streams, as I expected him to do, he clicks _'Broadcast Yourself'._

"So he's a cam model?" I question out loud, referring to his case study and seeing no mention of employment. I jot it down in my notes.

He gets up and turns off his light, plugging in a softer red tinted one that is out of my viewing range from the webcam. The red on his tanned skin makes the shadows that play on his toned chest deeper. _I could get used to this_. He fluffs his hair, rubs his hands down his face and uses his phone to send out a selfie and a link to his stream on Twitter. I write down his handle and make a mental note to view it later. Under a completely professional context.

He sat there for a few moments, refreshing his feed a few times before finally standing and going off screen. When he returned, he plugged in a new, HD webcam to his computer. I switched over to the external camera, thankful I don't have to look at the grainy, discolored image any longer. I don't miss that when he tilts the camera down, it reveals the two other items he brought with him. Lube and a box of clothes pins. Curiosity bites at me and I drain the rest of my wine, annoyed that the bottle was in the kitchen and not next to me.

Finally, he puts on a playlist of soft background music and hits 'Broadcast'. As people flood into his stream, I hear his voice for the first time. Deep and even, he greets people back to his stream, asking how they are and creating small talk.

"’How are you doing?’" He reads. Sighing and leaning back in the black chair, he spreads his legs and grins a toothy grin, looking directly into the camera. "Ready to get off to all the tips I'll get tonight."

I swallow.

He suddenly jumps and I nearly follow suit. Grabbing the box of clothes pins he brought with him, he holds them up proudly, smiling widely.  

"Tonight, for every five dollars added to the tip jar I will be adding a pin. Dealers choice." He laughs, setting them down. As he does, a bell goes off on screen. Looking down and then back up, he laughs. "Donniex292 donated ten dollars to get things started. Nipples." He sighs, grabbing two and placing them with a wince on each of his nipples. He reaches down and rubs the bulge that has begun to grow in his pants. "A good start. Maybe I'll regret saying dealers choice."

I flick back and forth between the window displaying his screen and the direct webcam image. Scrolling across the top of his stream was written, '$ _25 mark to remove pants, $30 mark to jerk off. Donations of $40 or more get one request.'_

Sitting back, I watch as he handles people donating money to his show, laughing and charming the crowd. He's gotten up to 300 people watching and had since adding a second pin to each of his nipples. Standing up he plays with the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down and tracing his boner with his thumb.

"Five more dollars the pants come off and another clip is added." He says seductively to the camera.

Just as he finishes his sentence, the bell indicating he’s been tipped goes off again.

"Thank god, I was gonna die if I had to keep these on any longer." He says, and removes his pants.

 

Audibly, I groan.

 

I consider writing down has a big dick, if only to humor four-eyes at work. But even more exciting than that, a silver glint at the head of his cock.

_He has a dick piercing._

"Okay, another clip. Any suggestions?" He looks down at the screen, reading the comments. He smiles, giving a lazy stroke to himself. Lifting his dick up against his stomach, he takes the clothes pin and places it at the base of his cock. Another wince and he bites at his lower lip.

Dipping his thumb to the tip of his cock, he rubs his precum around and sighs. Without realizing it, I sigh too.

Closing my eyes, I dig and rub my palms against my eyelids, trying to regain my sanity. I've seen so many things, I've investigated countless sexual scandals and seen far too many people fucking on camera for this to reasonably have any effect on me, but something about this reigned different. Groaning, I let my hands fall to my lap a little too close to the area I've been consciously trying to ignore.

_"Fuck,"_ He breathes heavily. I look back to the brunette on the screen, his erection red and dripping - begging to be attended to. Instead he has his hands buried in his hair, chest rising and falling steadily. "I know how much you guys like to hold back on me, but please, please let me get started."

A second later, and a ding rings.

_"Yes, thank god."_ He whispers, bringing his hands down to his cock. Flicking his eyes to the screen, his mouth gapes open. "Thank you _so_ much, MissTea33, you truly are sadistic." He lets out a chuckle, hands returning to his hair. "Four dollar donation."

 

I can't lie, he knows how to keep an audience. Thrusting his hips in the air, his dick makes a light slapping sound hitting his toned, tan chest. "Please, someone just the last dollar, I'm gonna explode over here." He leans up and grabs the bottle of lube on his desk, opening it and begins to pour a bit onto himself. Seeing his wet, perfect looking fucking cock, I can feel the blood rushing both to my cheeks and my dick.

The little bell goes off one more time, and the man behind the screen lets out a deep moan, hand flying to his neglected member as his moan goes straight to mine.

"Fuck it," I whisper, unzipping my trousers and pulling out my own throbbing dick. Spitting on my hand, I pump tightly against my girth.

Green eyes are heavily lidded, mouth parted and letting out loud, lewd noises. His back arches, eyebrows scrunched and hand working surprisingly slowly. The bell goes off four times in a row, and he smiles. Eyes scanning the screen, his smile only grows and he slows his strokes down.

"God damn. Where the hell am I going to fit twenty clips." Laughing, he lifts his legs and places them on the desk, giving a full view of himself. I watch as I lazily stroke myself while he fits all twenty onto his balls and the base of his dick. "Okay. And as for your request, I’ll wear a collar for the rest of the show."

He leans over, legs still propped up and pulls out a black leather collar with a large metal loop in the front. Clasping it in the back, he smiles and continues to stroke himself until another chime comes in and he opens his mouth, sticking out his pink tongue and putting three on the tip.

Leaning back, he keeps his legs propped up and continues to jerk himself off, drool dripping down his mouth and onto his chest. As disgusting as it was, it was single handedly the most erotic thing I've ever seen. His long hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, eyes closed in concentration. Mewling and shouting and letting go of himself right before he reaches his peak. Several more bells go off and he eventually removes the pins on his tongue to speak.

Breathless, he pants. "I'm out of clips."

He continues to jerk himself off, starting with slow strokes from the base to the tip before speeding up and moaning with no regard as he approaches his peak. His tip bell chimes and without stopping, he removes the drool covered clips from his tongue.

"And as expected --hnng! BlueDream donates 100 dollars with the request to cum in my mouth and show it to the camera. Anything for you, Blue-ah!-Dream. FUCK!"

 

He leans down further in his chair, opens his mouth in a wicked smile and stares into the camera as his cum shoots onto his chest and into his mouth. As soon as his bright green eyes make contact with my own through the screen, I cum without warning. With a strangled shout, hot spunk soils my shirt and pants. Too busy fisting out my orgasm, I didn't pay it any mind. Riding out his own orgasm, he uses his hand to wipe up the cum that didn't land into his mouth and sucks it off of his fingers. Getting closer to the camera, he opens up his mouth and sticks out his white coated tongue before it disappears back into its wet cavern and reappears clean.

Sitting in my own mess, I watch as he stares glassy-eyed at the screen and the comments. Looking over to the page, I join in on reading what's being said. Compliments, both innocent and salacious flood the chat box. A few people say that they came with him and some promise to show him a good time and good profit if he private messages them. Reading the comments in silence, save for his labored breathing, he begins removing the clothes pins off of his body, returning them to the box from which they came.

"You guys really turn me on, I could almost go again." He says, sitting up and lightly grazing his now soft dick. "Private Skype calls and show prices are listed in my bio, but if any of you want something a little more intimate," He smiles. "Make sure to send me a message and we can get something arranged. With that, I'll see you all tomorrow."

He says goodbye to a few audience members by name and thanks everyone who donated before logging out. It seems as soon as he's offline, his demeanor changes. He flips off his red light and slumps down in his computer chair, letting out a long sigh and rubbing sorely at his chest. I don't let the fact his HD camera is still plugged in to go to waste and soak up how red and irritated his nipples look and how slowly and tenderly he's touching them. Still riding off my orgasm high, I feel my dick twitch. Annoyed, I stand to remove my clothes, taking them to the laundry room and disposing of them in the hamper.

I ignore my computer screen and shut the laptop, carrying it and a final glass of wine up to my bedroom. Bean, a black cat Hange had talked me into adopting (and consequently talked me into naming), perks her head up at the sound of me coming in. I set my computer next to her on the bed, scratching her head and down her back. She meows softly, yawns and then puts her head back down on the pillow. I let out my own yawn and check the time. _Already one?_

Washing my face with cold water, I use a washcloth to get the remaining cum off of my stomach, making sure to clean everything properly. Climbing into bed and under my covers without bothering to put any clothes back on, I open up my laptop to find the man behind the screen is gone. I check his phone display and see he's gone to post a naked mirror selfie to his twitter, thanking everyone for a good night. He reappears in his room and grabs a little brown box from his nightstand. Having returned to the built in camera on his computer, I have a little trouble making out what it is he's taking out, but am soon relieved when I see the familiar motions of him rolling a piece of paper between his fingers. He lights up and reclines on his bed with one arm behind his head. He's put boxers on and his hair is pulled back in a loose bun much like the photo I’ve seen in his file. I watch him burn down his joint, putting it out in an ashtray on his bedside table. Getting under the white blanket on his bed, he leans over and scrolls on his phone a little while longer before turning it off and falling sleeping. I take the hint and close the computer, setting it on my own night stand and falling into a deep sleep.

 

\-----------------

 

"How was Pretty Boy last night? Ordered any coke off of the internet? Talked to any Johns?"

 

"None of your business." I bite.

 

"Oh? Starting to get protective?" She asks, poking me in the side. I groan, swatting her hand away.

 

"He's a cam model, I found out." A squeal. "But he hasn't even come into his room yet, he's been watching The Office on his Netflix account all day."

 

"Lucky you, huh? I bet that was fun to watch. Well, when he shows up let me know, I'm dying to see him." She laughs maniacally and rolls back to her desk a few spaces down from mine.

 

My eyes remain glued to the four windows open on my computer screen; one with live feed of his cell phone screen, another his computer, television and his webcam. Rubbing at my aching eyes, I slouch back into my chair, pen and paper in front of me ready to detail any changes in activity. I've written down everything I've learned about him that could aid the case since. His work online, messages relating to paid meetups, which aren't inherently illegal if discussion of sex isn't explicit, and even a few people who have come in and out of his flat.

 

Filling out my daily report, I have little to document. Like most college students, he's a lazy little fucker. Getting up only to smoke, eat and piss. He made a call to someone discussing the possibility of going out somewhere, but it seemed completely platonic.

 

Boring.

\---------------

 

Flopping down onto his chair rather heavily, Eren groans and dry washes his face before looking up at the computer screen, putting on a playlist similar to the one he played for his show the night before. I perk up at the sudden movement and watch with intent, curious if he’s preparing a live session. My suspicions are met when he plugs in his HD camera, positioning it in the same way he did for his stream. Fluffing his hair again, he tucks a strand behind his ear before standing to gather his supplies for the night. When he returns I'm a bit surprised. He's holding a bottle of lube and a washcloth, placing both on his desk. Reaching behind himself, he pulls his blue shirt over his head, tossing his hair back before reaching down and removing both his jeans and underwear in one swoop. Naked, he sits down and reaches underneath his desk to pull out a spool of thick, red rope. Undoing the tie, he wraps it first around his neck, making a knot at the center of his chest. Pulling it down in between his thighs, he brings it up from behind his waist, intertwining it to make a diamond shape.

I watch in admiration as his skilled hands move quick and methodically until he runs out of rope, tying it off in the back.

With his hands free, he leans back and closes his eyes. Letting them run over his chest, moving up and down over the texture of the rope. His lips slip into a smile as his fingers come to the start of his pubic hair, separating to move on either side of his growing erection. I sigh, looking away for a moment to regain myself. Setting the laptop on my couch, I leave to grab a glass of water. Determined not to let my vices get the best of me this time, I return to the image of the man masturbating on the screen. He's since slicked up and began to jerk off, hand moving lazily up and down, twisting at the head. I pull my legs together, looking at his computer screen, cell phone copy, anything else but the auspicious, sex-hungry brat.

I give in at the sound of his sweet moan coming through the speakers on my computer. Determined to keep my hands at bay, I watch as he lets his have free range and defile himself. He reaches up and sticks his fingers in his mouth, drooling all over them and down his chin, then grabs the bottle of lube, pouring a generous amount on his already wet fingers. I watch as he slowly dips down to his opening, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the tight muscle before sinking in slowly.

And the sound that came out of his mouth.

Slipping past his wet, pink lips, a low moan reached my ears and straight to my dick. Lifting my knuckle to my mouth, I bite down hard.

Gliding in and out of his hole, he looks up at the computer screen. He still hasn't so much as logged into his website, nor is a Skype call active. Maybe he just likes to watch himself get off? Flicking his green eyes back down, he closes them and smiles.

"H-hah. Fuck, fuck." He chants, pressing another finger past his entrance, pumping his cock in time with his fingers. Picking up his speed, he lifts a leg up in order to reach himself easier, consequentially giving me a better view of his obscene, lecherous body.

I take several large gulps of the water I brought, averting my eyes from the scene playing out in front of me. The loud moans and curses leaving his mouth make my head swim, and a heat pools at the bottom of my stomach. He's moving at an intense pace, brow knit in pleasure and mouth parted.

Pulling my trousers down my legs, I palm my erection through my boxer briefs, body arching at the touch. Breathing heavily, I take out my cock and spit on my hand, trying to slick it up enough to be comfortable, wishing I was in my bedroom with my own bottle of lube. When I reach a moderately comfortable point, I lean back and let myself enjoy the body moving behind the screen. Imagining that his fingers were instead inside of me, making me choke and moan, wishing I could see what he did when he was on his knees with his hands tied back.

Knuckle deep, he inserts a third finger, plunging them in and out. The tight wetness has started to make squelching sounds, mixing with his beautiful moans.

 

"Oh G- _God,_ I'm close, _fuck, fuck, fuck_."

 

 

Just as he utters his last 'fuck', I cum. Trying to aim into my hand, I instead miss and accidentally get it onto my computer. Cursing myself, I wait and watch as the boy cums onto his bare chest, white semen covering the red rope. Head thrown back in his orgasm, I watch as his dick twitches and his hand moves away from his sensitive organ. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he pulls his head back up. Hair disheveled and a dangerous smirk on his mouth, my heart nearly stops as he looks directly into the camera and says.  

 

 

 

_"Did you enjoy the free show, Mr. FBI man?"_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWZA, hoped y'all liked it.  
> If this is received well I have a few more chapters I could add and continue the plot with! like why Erwin reassigned Levi to this case and what the creepy fucker has planned. Annd maybe even an undercover private session with levi? ;-))) I'm so pumped about season 3 I had to write something and get the excitement out. 
> 
> No clue how the FBI handles shit, so I'm running off the idea that it's just like any other office lmao. Spare me.


	2. Chapter 2

“How do you compromise an assignment? Slow down and start over.”

 

I sigh, pacing around my living room. “He knows he’s being watched, Erwin, what about that don’t you understand?”

 

“And what about his actions have lead you to that conclusion?” He asks, characteristically collected and aggravatingly sure of himself. I nearly throw my phone at the wall. I steal a look at the computer again, at the shaggy headed heathen sitting in his room scrolling through his phone.

 

“He directly told me he-,” I rub at the back of my neck, head flooded with frustration. “That he hoped I enjoyed his show.”

 

A low laugh rumbles on the other side of the phone. “And did you?”

 

I hang up, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to collect myself. I end up launching my phone across the room.

 

Erwin, despite being our superior at work, roomed with me throughout college. Because of this unfortunate deal by fate, we know far more about the other than I would even want to know about my spouse. When it turned out that Erwin was the one governing our branch of the FBI, it was both a relief to be able to avoid pretending to respect to a superior and a nightmare to work under someone who knows every button you have and exactly how to press them.

 

Without orders to abandon my assignment, I have no other choice but to continue until I can convince the meathead otherwise. Even with a compromised situation, deep in my gut I know there isn’t a chance in hell Erwin would let me give up now that he knows my situation with the case.

 

“You giant blonde bastard,” I mutter to the disregarded phone lying at the other side of the room. Bean comes bouncing down the stairs at the noise, circling my feet and meowing. “You’re not the blonde bastard, you’re just the gluttonous freeloader,” I say, reaching down to pet her. My eyes glance back up to the computer screen, watching the boy on the other side.

  
  


“Stupid brat.”

  
  


\---------------------

  
  


Rubbing my temple periodically, I stand in the kitchen fixing dinner, set on keeping my thoughts focused elsewhere.

 

A few days had passed since letting Erwin know about my unease regarding the kid’s case. I hadn’t come to the office since then, opting to spend some time working from home -- a perk that came with the job. Erwin had encouraged it, saying I should focus on taking better care of myself in the meantime, like he usually did. His chiding never ceased to annoy me, but today bigger nuisances demanded my attention.

 

I concede to being a little more distracted than usual while cutting my vegetables. Uneven and small pieces thrown into an all too hot pan became stuck to the bottom. In an attempt to save the dish I added in large amounts of olive oil, which over hydrated them resulting in a big pile of smush in the pan. Frustrated with my own incompetence, I sit down at the dinner table and eat my sad, mashed up puree.

 

Halfway through my meal, a familiar and obnoxious sounding knock is heard at my front door. I ignore it, sufficiently forgetting that the offender of that awful knock knows where I keep my spare key. A moment later and the four-eyed freak is joining me for dinner, reminding me that I should put my spare key in a different place. Not that that would stop the intrusions, just postpone them. Maybe I should just change the locks. Again, temporary solution.

 

“Levi darling I had no idea you were so old you had to eat baby food," she comments, picking up and plopping down the food in her bowl with her spoon.

 

“Leave.”

 

“Awh, don’t be so mean. I do have a reason for being here, before you get too fussy.” _At least she knows to get to the point._ She reaches into her bag and pulls out a folder labeled in red as confidential.

 

“Another case?” I question, opening it and looking over the paperwork.

 

“Erwin said he needed the evidence by Tuesday. It’s credit card fraud, so you can get it done in your sleep. Not that you do that or anything.” She giggles, spooning some of the slop into her mouth. Not that that stopped her from continuing her blabbering. “I heard from a little blonde birdy that you fucked up the Pretty Boy case.”

 

“That giant gossiping bastard,” I whisper. Her eyes widen a bit, giving me an incredulous stare. “So you really did fuck it up? How!?”

 

Drywashing my face, I explain to her the situation with the omission of certain details. She listens intently, brows raising at the mention of his statement. “Wait, so he called you. . . _Mr. FBI man?_ ” She asks, a smile perking the ends of her lips. I look at her dumbly for a moment, returning my attention back to my mushy food. Hange bursts out laughing, hitting her hands on the table and keeling over.

 

“Maybe you’re the one going senile, the fuck is so funny, Four-Eyes?”

 

“You- you actually thought he was talking _to_ you?” She spits, out of breath. I ignore her, angrily shoving spoonfuls of my dinner into my mouth. “You’re supposed to be among the highest ranking intellectuals, deduction skills easily the best among anyone in our branch, and you can’t figure out that he was just spouting a few jokes to himself? How are you so out of the loop about everything?” She asks, pulling out her phone, fingers flying across the screen. A moment later she shows me lists and lists of people saying ‘goodnight to the FBI agent in my phone’ with different pictures and videos attached to them. I crinkle my nose at the humor.

 

“You’re serious, this is a fucking thing?” I say, grabbing her phone to read them all.

 

“Levi, the people care,” She says, holding a hand against her chest dramatically. “Now change your diaper and get with the times, you got so worked up over a kid making a joke.”

 

Resting back in my dining chair, I let the information sink in and assuage my anxieties. What 19 year old brat has the proper technology to detect when he’s being watched? Not even the top drug lords or white collar criminals are smart enough to do the bare minimum of covering their computer cameras with a piece of tape or downloading a free VPN to hide their tracks, how would some college student get his hands on the right programs to detect government surveillance?

 

Subjected to Hange’s continued quips about my age and the ironic accuracy hidden behind internet humor, we finish our sludge and I clean up after the both of us. Washing the remnants of our food off of the bowls, I take extra care to scrub the spoon Hange used while she lounges in the living room, petting Bean and cooing at her.

  


While Erwin and I had known each other through college, Hange’s introduction to our lives was about as unorthodox as her acceptance into the FBI. I first met Hange during my second year working under Erwin with our current branch. We were trailing her involvement in a five year long case of money laundering and counterfeiting. Despite her case running through nearly twenty private investigations, no one was able to so much as identify her name.

 

It was eventually passed to Erwin and then our entire crew. It took 14 months and the help of several informants to locate and get her in our hands for interrogation and eventually persecution. When her case went to court, she was given a rare ultimatum considering her position: Join Erwin’s branch or face two consecutive life sentences in a high security prison. Hange’s knowledge of technology was more advanced than what they taught at even the most elite academy, in conjunction with her ability to pioneer and build her own programs to evade detection. Talent like that couldn’t be wasted rotting in a shitty jail cell. She eventually took the bait and joined our team, becoming one of the FBI’s greatest assets.

 

After her training, she was given the desk adjacent to mine. She was persistent in her pursuit to get close to me. Growing tired of her efforts quickly, I gave up the vain attempts of ignoring her and eventually stopped moving when she came to sit next to me during my lunch breaks to tell me about her pet rats. I reluctantly grew fond of her dry humor and in due course she was able to map out the boundaries at which our companionship could go, even learning to respect them. Not without several death threats from my side, however.

 

With time and several outings to a local bar, she spilled that she knew Erwin before working under him. In spite of my attempts to cozen that story out of her, the most I could get from the loose lipped Four-Eyes was that they attended the same high school and during their first meeting, Erwin nearly lost his arm. Ready to label her as a compulsive liar, I later became acutely aware of a rather intimidating scar running along Erwin’s left bicep. No amount of pestering could get it’s origin story out from him, either.

 

It occasionally crosses my mind how little Hange and I know about the other’s life. With less than desirable pasts, we both possessed an unexpressed yet explicit understanding that we were both better off not knowing anything up until the moment we met. An agreement that has offhandedly brought us closer.

 

 _It doesn’t take knowing her life story to know I should still remain cautious of what kind of shit she does on her own time,_ I think, scrubbing the spoon a little harder.   


  
  
  


“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, meeting her in the living room looking at the laptop I mistakenly left unattended on the couch.

 

“Oh, he’s so cute!” She says, turning around with a wide smile on her face. Over her shoulder I can see Eren sitting in his chair, chin resting in his hand as he stares blankly at a screen, eyes moving horizontally as he reads something.

 

“What’s he reading?” I ask, shoving her over to get closer. WebMD  _‘Mixing alcohol and Zoloft’._ “Little fucker isn’t old enough to drink,” I note, narrowing my eyes at his image.

 

“You also can’t mix the two. He’ll end up overdosing, and then what will you have to keep yourself busy with at night?” She huffs. I roll my eyes.

 

“We aren’t going to sit here and watch the brat like this is a reality show, he’s under suspicion of a felony,” I say, shutting the laptop and setting it further away from the nosy woman.

 

“And how is that coming?”

 

I think for a second, looking absently at the folder containing all of his information. Sure, I’ve documented anything and everything that could possibly be interpreted in a court of law to prosecute him, but really. . . “Poorly. He hasn’t done anything yet.”

 

“Sounds like he’s done a few things," she giggles. I roll my eyes.

 

“Nothing illegal,” I clarify. She waves her hand dismissively. 

 

“Well, it has only been a week or so. And now you'll have something else to run up time with. Speaking of which, Erwin double assigned me two tax evaders. Doesn’t he care that he’s boring me to death?”

 

“You can get them done by the end of the day, what are you complaining about?”

 

“They’re so _dull_. I wish I was assigned my own Pretty Boy. He looks like so much fun.” She laughs again, standing up and trying to ruffle my hair. I dodge her attack and slap her hand away, glaring halfheartedly. I see her out the door, locking both the deadbolt and bottom lock, though I know she won’t be back. Or that either lock would stop her from getting inside.

  


I open the computer back up to see Eren still scrolling away on the internet. Minimizing his screens, I get to work on the credit card case, going about the process. Thankfully for us, most fraud cases follow the same type of monotonous procedure, meaning they’re easy to track and solve. The more people who do it and follow the idiot before them in their facile process, the easier they are to break and prevent. It’s like driving over planes of grass, the more the grass is trampled on the more visible and easily detected the path becomes. Despite all this, they still demand the convoluted procedure of documenting and following through with reports to higher ups. In my case, Erwin.

  


It ends up taking me around four and a half hours to complete everything, printing all the papers and tucking them back in the folder that they belong in. Checking my watch, it reads half past eleven. I yawn, reaching over to pet Bean who had at some point curled up against my feet. The warm ball of fur meows before getting up and stretching, jumping down from the couch and making her way upstairs.

 

Ready to retire, I start to follow suit before remembering to check in on Eren one last time. Opening the camera feed I see him lying in bed with the lights off. _At least the brat is getting some rest._ I filter through his call list, emails and finally text messages. Annoyed that nothing of particular interest came up, I shut the laptop and move on to my nightly routine. While brushing my teeth, I jolt a bit at my own revelation. At least the brat is getting rest? Even in my own head I can’t help but feel embarrassed at the sentiment. Pushing the thought away, I join Bean in bed, falling asleep quickly.

  
  


\---------------------

  
  


Gentle hands caress my own, guiding me to sit down on a half made bed. I cringe a little at how poor an attempt went into trying to make it look presentable, but my attention is recaptured when the mop of brown hair that led me here bends down with his back towards me, shuffling through a dresser drawer. Bare, round ass sticking out, I can feel my pants becoming tighter and tighter the longer I stare. I force myself to avert my eyes, leaning back on my hands and opting to instead scan the room. It looks weirdly familiar, despite knowing I’ve never been here before. Tall walls surround me without a window in sight, their stone like surface making the room seem cold and unwelcoming. I can’t quite make out a door anywhere, eyes barely focusing thanks to a bright blue light clouding my vision. Squinting against it, my eyes adjust to recognize the light is coming off of a computer screen. Reflected in its monitor I can make myself out, lounging on the bed. A white text scrolls atop the screen and to the right is a section with comments flooding in.

 

_Is he streaming?_

 

“You didn’t mention we’d be broadcasting this,” I say, standing up. He turns, looking at me over his shoulder with a wicked grin spread on his lips.

“What, don’t like having the tables turned?” He asks, rising to his feet and stalking over to me. I swallow, having to arch my neck to meet his eyes.

For a brat he’s tall as shit; towering over me in an almost intimidating manner. He raises a hand and gently pushes me back down onto the unexpectedly uncomfortable bed. Meeting me there, his legs swing on either side of my hips to straddle me, ass coming down to put pressure on my erection. When they meet, his green eyes bore into my own, the color seeming to swirl like paint, intoxicatingly changing from green to blue to yellow. I don’t even think to question it before he turns his cheek to watch himself in the computer screen, ass grinding into my crotch. His hands come up to my neck and stroking their way down my chest, leaving the skin feeling uncomfortably hot in their trail.

 

I’m lost in the sensation of him moving his hips in ungodly patterns. Each feather like touch lighting up my skin, making me feel like I was sinking deeper and deeper into his mattress. He dips his head down to press his mouth against my neck, lightly sucking on my pulse. Keeping my eyes open despite their desire to close, I rack my brain for distractions, and more importantly: answers. Why am I here, what happened to lead to me lying underneath the kid I was just monitoring? I think I would remember the details of an undercover mission, god help me if I couldn't. Did he drug me? My head felt light, but that was probably just from my blood being localized at a different region. How did I even get here? Where is here? And why do I feel like I’ve been here before? Nothing leading up to now comes to memory and I push rather forcefully to make the boy let go of my neck. He stares down at me confused before his frown begins to turn. His iris begins to turn a brighter green, shining brilliantly in the dark room.

 

“Am I dreaming?” I ask, looking at the smiling face above me.

 

Like the Cheshire Cat, his grin only widens, baring his teeth in an uncanny manner.

 

“If I say yes, will you finally enjoy yourself?”

 

Not waiting for an answer, he returns to kissing down my neck, drawing a line up from my collar bone to my ear with his tongue. I don’t resist when my breathing begins to turn labored, resting my hands on his hips and pushing him down to meet my erection with more force. He lets out an approving mewl, letting out a sound that sounded more animal than human. Removing my neck from his mouth, he sits up, hands moving up and down my chest. Hair strewn in different directions, eyes half closed in lust, he looks beautiful and dangerously intoxicating. The light from the forgotten computer screen causes a halo effect around his head. Bringing my hips up to meet him, he moans at each movement, mouth dropping open to let the sounds roll off his tongue freely. Lost in the sensation, I almost miss the light humming that reaches my ears intermittently. I lift my eyes at the peculiar noise, looking up at the man above me. He smirks down at me, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Did you just fucking. . . _purr_?” I ask.

 

He simpers, tongue coming out to wet his pink lips before bringing them next to my ear. The sound grows louder, so much so I can almost feel the vibrations. His long hair tickles my nose, and his low voice can barely be heard as he whispers, “That’s your cat, silly.”

  
  
  


My eyes snap open, having no time to adjust to the sun blaring in through my window. _My_ window. In _my_ room. Jerking my head to the side, a black tail comes down to lightly whip at my face, the source of the purring now belonging to a real and far less attractive vessel. I rub at my eyes roughly, holding my palms against them and sighing loudly. _I’m not 13 anymore, why am I having wet dreams?_

  


I rub out my erection in the shower, finishing quicker than I’d like to admit. Under the hot stream of water, my thoughts race. I’d need to stop by the office to give Erwin the finished fraud case and I’d have to talk to him about Eren. It would be better for my health if I didn’t spend every waking moment babysitting and thinking about the damned kid, but it wasn’t like my unconscious mind was safe from his intrusions anymore either.  

 

Dressing quickly, I throw on a basic black T-shirt and jeans that fit a bit tightly against my still damp skin. I comb back my hair and opt to throw on a plain black baseball cap instead of drying it properly. I grab my keys off the counter and pack my laptop into my messenger bag. I make sure I have everything before locking up the house and making my way to the office.

 

A twenty minute commute on good days, our offices weren’t beautiful or large like one might imagine a government run facility might be. Modest and discreet was more like it. What we lacked in appearances we compensated for with high security. Unlocking the doors with the sensor in my wallet, I briskly make my way through the office, ignoring Hange’s hello and knocking briefly on Erwin’s door before letting myself in. He looks unbothered at my entrance, blue eyes flicking up from his computer screen.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, turning in his chair to face me.

 

“I got your busy work done,” I say, dropping the manila folder in front of him. He thanks me for it and I linger about, waiting for him as he takes his sweet ass time tucking the folder in one of his locked filing cabinet.

 

“Did you need something else?” He asks, pretending not to notice my hesitance.

 

I swallow, rubbing the nape of my neck. Erwin sighs. “Is this about your assignment?”

 

“I don’t think I can continue this case, Erwin," I tell him finally, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

 

“And why is that?” He asks, crossing his legs and offering me his full attention.

 

“It’s been a week since beginning this case and I haven’t gotten anything to even suggest that he’s involving himself in any explicitly illegal activity." A huge eyebrow raises at that. "Promiscuous, yes. Incriminating, no.”

 

“So only after a week you’re ready to assume you fully understand your subject? Or are you just ready to give up on a case?” He muses, blue eyes challenging me.

 

“I’m not giving up on anything,” I snap, voice raising involuntarily. I clear my throat before speaking again. “This just seems like a waste of time on someone who may or may not be committing illegal acts. Why shouldn’t we just blacklist him from hotels like we usually would? Put a monitor on his search history? What about this case is so sensitive that he’s required to be under surveillance?”

 

His eyebrows pull together, creasing the skin between them. Lips dragging down to a frown, they part for a moment before he speaks. “You’re really that directionless?” He asks quietly. To himself more than me it seemed.

 

“Excuse me?” I ask, folding my arms defensibly. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

 

“There are lots of things you aren’t being told, Levi. Has that stopped you from figuring them out before?” He asks, standing and flicking through his filing cabinet. I stare at his back wishing I could burn holes in his stupid expensive shirt. He finally turns, holding a folder. I look between him and the documents before he extends his hand to me, offering it up. I accepting it.

 

He points a long finger at the paperwork in my hands.

 

“That’s all you should need to know.”

 

Dismissively, he returns to his computer, typing away with incredible speed. I sigh, tucking the folder under my arm and closing the door behind me.

  


Back in my car, I rub my hands down the sides of the steering wheel. Without even looking in the folder, I knew what was waiting for me. It was his case study from the previous agent assigned to him. They could range from two pages to, in this case, _an entire folder._ In the time he’s been under my supervision he’s done shit all. He barely gets out of bed unless its to go to his classes or jerk off on camera. Sure, he’s discussed a few paid meetings with people but never with explicit talk of sex. He hasn’t even gone to one of the said meetings. I rack my brain, wondering how at 19 he could already have made such a distinct mark on our radar.

 

\---------------------

  


I flip from page to page, reading every word as if they each held a specific significance. Nothing was quite adding up and I had to keep looking back to the front page to make sure I was reading the right person's case. Nothing listed here sounded quite like the brat I had been watching over. As if rereading the same words over and over would force them to make sense, I kept at it.

 

_Subjects himself to staying awake for days at a time._

 

_Abuse of prescribed antidepressants._

 

_Off the radar for more than three weeks at a time._

 

The kid had a habit of staying up late, but he also constantly slept through his alarms, no matter how many he set. He knocks out cold when he sleeps. I had yet to see any abuse of his medicine, in fact I had never seen him take them more than once. He keeps them in the drawer of his night stand, but that's where they stay. From what I could tell his bottle is still full. Why he didn't just flush them was beyond me, but maybe he was hoping to binge on them at a later date? Saving them for that?

 

The last part of the report nearly makes me laugh out loud. The kid staying off the radar? He was constantly glued to his computer or phone, which meant his location was traceable at all times. Not that it was really that helpful, he barely leaves his bedroom.

 

 

_Transaction of $550 to account made with intentions to meet at. . ._

 

_Transaction of $820 to account made as a ‘donation’. . ._

 

_Transaction of. . ._

 

_Transaction of. . ._

 

 

_Transaction of. . ._

 

The list went on and on. I stare at the paper, eyes widening a few times at the ridiculous amounts I was seeing.  So Eren wasn’t just here to play games, he made serious money doing what he was doing. Which contrasted my idea that he was simply a salacious college student with a weird night job. The amount he was making doesn’t seem to match up with how he was living, though. He must have put it all into his tuition? He certainly wasn’t living lavishly, despite his apparent income.

 

Looking at the computer screen, I could see Eren’s twitter where he had recently posted a picture of him with a cup of coffee held up to his face. A tired smile barely reached his bright green eyes. _‘Finals week is coming up, but I’ll be on tonight at 7pm central time. Keep me company while I try to remain sane?’_ The caption read.

 

Looks could be deceiving.

 

He was in class right now, which left me with little to do on his case. Refusing to look at his file any longer for the sake of my own sanity, I get up and pace around my living room, deciding the carpet under my feet could stand to be vacuumed. And the windows could be cleaned again. It had been about a week since I’d done a deep cleaning, and nothing brought me more tranquility than a clean home.

 

Wrapping a bandana around my nose and mouth to keep dust from getting in, I get to work cleaning and removing every particle of dirt in my home. Granted there isn’t much anywhere from the last time I had cleaned, but you could never be sure. Germs are microscopic, after all.

  


While wiping down the kitchen counter with a disinfectant towelette, Bean circles around my legs with a loud meow.  I look down at her and watch as she patterns across the freshly cleaned floor to her empty food bowl. Going over to the stash of wet cat food I kept in the pantry, I notice her stockpile running low. Emptying the contents of the offensive smelling slop into her bowl, I look up and realize my grocery list was nearly full. Peaking at the open computer screen in the room next over, I estimate that I’d have another hour before the brat would be back doing anything of interest and decide I’d get all my chores out of the way with a trip to the store.

 

Dusting off my pants and removing my protective mask from my face, I throw on a light coat along with my tennis shoes and black cap before heading out the door.

 

\---------------------

 

 _How many goddamn Fancy Feast flavors can there be._ I wonder, staring hopelessly at the endless options of colorful tin cans. Picking up a red can, I turn it over, reading the ingredients.

 

“Disgusting.” I mutter, putting the can of wet fish scraps in my basket. I pick up several other colors, throwing them in and hoping the picky little shit at home would eat them.

 

Marking cat food off of my list, the last few things I need are in produce; steak, eggs and vegetables.

Making my way to the other side of the store, I’m met with the same dilemma at the deli as I had with the pet food. How many goddamn ways can you butcher a cow?

 

Leaning over the side and examining the red meat, I truly was at a loss. They all looked the same yet claimed different prices and had different names. Cautiously poking the cold meat as if that would tell me it’s secrets, I let out a huff.

  


“What the hell is a chuck steak.” A low voice mumbles next to me.

 

I let out a small breath of laughter. “Really, the fuck is a New York strip and why is it twenty five dollars.”

 

“No clue. Glad I’m not the only one who knows shit all about this sort of thing.”  

 

Mouth cracked in a smile, I tilt my head to acknowledge the equally as confused and foul mouthed person next to me, but stop in my motion. I barely catch sight of oddly familiar brown hair pulled back in an all too messy low bun, sharp jawline and straight nose. 

 

Slack-jawed and wide eyed, I whip my head back around before I can be caught staring and instead focus on the sea of red ahead of me. Looking out the corner of my eye, the tall figure stands with his arms crossed, a hand on his chin in deep thought. Sun kissed forearms peak out of a grey hoodie, long legs covered by black joggers. Blinking hard at what I saw - who I saw - I nearly laugh out loud at my own misfortune. Turning more and trying to inconspicuously check if I really am just becoming paranoid, the defined eyebrows turned down in concentration and ridiculously bright green eyes confirm my suspicions. That really is the horny brat.

 

Said emerald eyes catch my own, the corners of his full lips quirking in a sly smirk. I quickly look down at my shoes, frozen with panic and confusion before succumbing to my anxieties. I was in fight or flight mode, and I don't think punching the kid was going to help me right now. I make to grab the first thing my hand comes in contact with so I can get the hell out of there.

  


Which happens to be another hand.  

  


Before I even register the mistake my hand was recoiling on it's own, flinching back like I had touched an open flame. The man next to me offers a friendly chuckle, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

 

“Oh, my bad. Guess clueless minds think alike," he offers, motioning for me to take the steak.

 

Swallowing hard, I tilt my head away and cover my face with the bill of my hat as much as possible. _Not that he would know who I am. Still, this is getting freaky._ Deciding to abort, I grab the steak next to where he had grabbed and throw it in my cart, turning around to leave.

 

Saying fuck it to the vegetables, I beeline for the self checkout, scanning the items in my basket as fast as possible. Shaky hands stumble over the obscene amount of Fancy Feast cans before I reach for the last one. I feed the machine my large bills quickly, not bothering to dig out the proper amount like I otherwise would. Waiting for my change, I glance up at the monitor recording my station. I catch sight of black pants directly behind me approaching where I stand. Finally the slow piece of shit spits out my money and I snatch it with unnecessary haste, already starting to walk away, but a call forces me to stop.

 

“Hey!” The familiarly deep and husky voice calls. I turn around slowly, trying to keep my face indifferent. Not typically a problem, but any added stoicism would probably help me in this situation. Fully facing the man before me, I really do have to arch my neck a bit to look him in the eyes. Despite the dark circles under them, they’re soft and welcoming. He wets his soft looking lips, stammering for a second before ripping the sheet of paper out of the machine. “You- uh. Forgot your receipt.”

 

I stare at his outstretched hand holding the small piece of paper.

 

“You stopped me just to give me my receipt?” I ask, scowling at it.

 

He opens and closes his mouth, smiling down at his hands.

 

“Sorry, no. I actually wanted to ask. . . Have we met somewhere before?”

 

I squint at him, shocked at the question. Blinking once, he shakes his head and starts to scan his items.

 

“I know this is going to sound weird, but I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Or maybe it’s just that your voice just sounds super familiar?” He looks to me to confirm his question, his face almost begging me to simply agree. Unsure of what to say, I shake my head. “Can’t recall anything. You probably have me mixed up with someone else.”

 

A pregnant pause passes before he nods, mood obviously deflated. _A good look._

 

“Must have,” he says, eyes scanning me up and down, though I could tell there wasn’t anything salacious about their movement. He really must be trying to wrack his brain trying to place me somewhere in it. I don't want to stick around and play twenty questions, but he opens his mouth again right as I’m about to go. “I’m Eren, by the way.”

 

_This kid can’t be serious. He’s really trying to strike up conversation right now?_

 

Unsure what else to do, I swallow before nodding my head stupidly. “Nice to meet you. . . Eren.” His name feels foreign on my tongue, and I realize now that it’s the first time I’ve said it outloud. He looks at me like a kid who just got a new puppy for Christmas, eyes wide and mouth open. He looks like he was going to say something else but before he can I take the opportunity and hurry to leave.

 

It takes most of my willpower to resist turning around to look at those pretty green eyes one last time.

 

 

 

Not that it would really be the last time. 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUHGH okay. it's out. Again. 
> 
> I just feel like my writing is so shit sometimes. Forgive me for being an awful author lmao. Regardless I revised, added and cleaned up this chapter and have the next one almost done! Things are finally looking in the direction I wanted them to <3 I hope you guys enjoy this one, can't wait to put out the next chapter. 
> 
> Also I'm just a lone writer out here without any betas or people to consult my writing with so spare me lmao. I envy y'all with fandom friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh I wrote this in an hour

The sound of water hitting a porcelain floor filled my bathroom.

My wet skin pressed against the cold tile of my shower and I could feel the grout separating the checkered pattern I hated so much. A breeding ground for bacteria.

Across the room sitting on my sink sat my laptop, open on it was a pretty young boy with dark hair and green eyes. For whatever reason, he too was in his shower. A smaller and undoubtedly less clean one. Stark white with all too bright fluorescent overhead lights washing out his scene. He’s standing with a camera angled up at his long, lean frame. Showing off the curve of his ass sloping into the small of his back, water and soap slip down and drip off of it. His flushed cheeks press against the smooth surface of his shower wall, chin turned to look at what presumably was his computer screen set up somewhere off to the side. He was watching himself.

He moves his tan hands over his ass and spreads them, giving an ungodly show to his hundreds of viewers. It may have climbed up to thousands by the time I last checked. I watch sadistically as he presses two fingers against himself and silently parts his lips. If there was a whisper of a moan it died out under the sound of his shower. Or mine for that matter.

Even watching from here I was able to catch the wave of pleasure that graces his features as his long fingers inch into him. When he reaches his knuckles he isn’t shy about letting a loud gasp leave himself. Thick eyebrows furrow and he works on opening himself up, leaning back into his hand and starting a short and fast rhythm. His doe eyes shut for only a moment, quickly returning to watch himself again.

The scalding hot water hitting my skin seems to get hotter and I can feel my skin turning raw because of it. I'm taking ragged breaths despite trying to even it out several times and deep in the back of my mind I know I should just give in and enjoy the show presented to me, but I can't.

Not that it’s even a matter of morality at this point, but that it’s simply a matter of will. Whatever it is about this kid that has me compelled against my better judgment to indulge needs to shrivel up and die.

 

My eyes dart back to the computer screen, watching as the pretty boy displayed has pulled out what I can only comprehend as the most exaggerated, colorful take on a dick I have ever seen. Tapering dramatically from the tip to the base and color coated as if designating levels on which to destroy your ass.

He smiles and looks back at where his camera is set up, showing off his toy. Uncapping a bottle of lube, he pours a generous amount onto the tip and begins to make a show of dragging his hand up and down the length of the gargantuan cock, spreading it over every inch.

“Bets for how far I can take it?” He asks, repositioning the camera. He sits now on his knees, face out of frame, but hard cock on full display. One hand comes down to stroke himself while the other must be scrolling through comments. The chime of donations floods and echos off his bathroom walls, coming through my speakers.

“Awh, not a lot of bets for purple! Rude.” He exclaims, referencing the last and largest color tier. Of course the cocky brat is going to talk himself up.

“Okay, Dasher, I’ll take you up! 10,000 coins if I can make it to blue. Now what if I make it to purple?”

A moment passes and an orchestra of chimes comes in. He laughs, deep and sensual.

“50k tokens for purple? If I make it there you guys better follow through on your promises!”

He stays reading comments I can’t make out from where I am, but finally comes back and positions himself for the camera. Dildo the main focus and center stage, he raises himself on his knees, ass towards the camera and starts to lower himself. The first chain of the rainbow dick, is obviously red. Large but not too intimidating, he sinks onto it with ease and a long gasp. Just as quickly he engulfs the larger orange cap. Pulling back up, his entire hole on on display for the camera, and he holds onto the base with his hands.

“Hah, fuck. Easy enough.” He says, pulling off before coming back down.

Quickly he rides himself to yellow and then eventually green. Loud moans escape his lips and reach his microphone that turn into a small giggle fit.

“Alright, since so many of you didn’t believe in me. We’re at green. Suck it, assholes. And no smart remarks about what I just said.”

He laughs and gives the camera his middle finger. Sinking down a little lower, the taper of the toy significantly increases here. Pulling up to the tip, he thrusts himself back down hard and screams.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck I don’t want to cum yet.” He says, slowing down the movement of his hips. He chants a string of curses and breathes hard and heavy.

“Okay, okay. Purple, we have to make it to purple.” He sighs, sinking impossibly lower onto the toy.

I bite my lip and slap my hands to the top of my head. I can't imagine the sight, standing stupidly under a stream of boiling hot water with a raging erection and the most ungodly sight just feet in front of me. Even just a few miles near me. If I had thought the times before this were impossible to resist I had no idea the downright sinful temptation to come. The devil has nothing on this kid. Or he might just be Satan himself.

 

“Ah! Fuck, fuck, fffuck!”

 

My eyes jerk back to the computer screen to see Eren bouncing hastily on my screen. Mindlessly he lifts and drops himself with haste over the toy, hands coming back to spread himself wider. I stare in awe at the sight, my knees feeling weak. As if on cue, Eren's legs begin to shake and he drops himself, shoving the camera back expertly to catch his spontaneous position change. Ass in the air, face shoved against the floor of his shower, one hand reaches back and thrusts into himself while the other pumps hard at his leaking cock. Eyes closed, mouth gaping open and letting out unfiltered cries.

When he finally reaches his peak he goes silent.

 

My eyes nearly roll back into my head and my jaw drops in possibly the most carnal noise I’ve ever heard come from my own throat. My knees fully go weak and my feet slip from underneath me, ass smacking loudly to the floor. 

 

It takes me a moment to process what just happened, head high and vision spotting. When I do come to, I can’t do much but stare down at my current state.

 

My hand hurts and so do my legs. And my ass and my head. 

I ignore all of them to see that despite everything, all my efforts.

There's cum leaking from my cock.

I stare at my dick in disbelief, eyebrow twitching.

 

"What the fuck."

My own body has gone against me at this point.

How is that even possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this raunchy
> 
> hehe hiiii i'm back. New chapter coming soon <3
> 
> If y'all are into this kind of shit uhh let me know bc I'm not used to writing SMUTTY smut but a girl can deliver. And if not i'll continue writing the way i normally do. Anywho, happy to get something out! I'll come back to read this in a little bit and make any edits, corrections, etc. If you notice anything particularly fucked feel free to drag me in the comments


	4. Chapter 4

“Leeeeviii,” Hange sings, head thrown back to look at me between our cubicles. “This is boring.”

 

“People are boring, Hange. Get over it.” I say, plastic coffee lid pressed against my lips.

 

“Even Pretty Boy?”

 

“Especially deviant college students during finals week, Four-Eyes.” That wasn’t an understatement. I’d been swiveling in my chair for the last hour doing shit all while Eren sat in some coffee shop spitting facts and information between himself and what sounded like five other students in an attempt to study. He’d recently bought himself a new laptop for classes and other activities, so I’m no longer confined to watching him strictly while he’s at home. I can now follow him to lectures.The only other place he goes, apparently.

Hange rolls her chair over to me, looking at the screen with a huff. “Aww, he’s out and about! How cute!

She gets a little closer to the screen, and for that matter me, eyes squinted and eyebrows knit.

 

“The fuck are you-”

 

“Just admiring that cute little mug!" She leans back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head. “Mmm, that makesme want coffee shop food. Take a lunch with me, Levi! We can go to that little shop down the street. My treat.” She smiles at me uncomfortably wide. It isn’t unlike Hange to want to hang out with me, but something about the way she's looking at me makes me skeptical. I stare at her for a beat, and she characteristically stares back unfazed.

 

"No."

 

"Oh come onnnn, we haven't taken a lunch together in so long!"

 

"It's been a blessing."

 

"Ugh, you hurt me, Levi!" She groans, hunching over my work space clutching her chest theatrically. “You've been looking a little worse for wear, you know," she tells me, probably thinking she's lowering her voice. Rolling back to her desk with one strong kick, shrugging on her coat and packing her laptop in her bag. “It’ll do you good to eat real food. Not just that sad, sad mush you’ve been trying to survive off of.”

 

“Fuck off,” I say, reluctantly shutting my own laptop and standing. She jumps in her spot, clapping her hands together. She waits by the door looking like a dog who just heard the word 'walk'.

 

“The coffee shop is just down the street, we can go on a lovely walk and enjoy the weather!” she tells me on the elevator ride down to the first floor.

 

"Fat chance of that." I shiver at the early winter air, pulling my black coat tighter around me as we make our way down the street. Today was a particularly miserable day, one most people stayed inside for. Dark, foreboding clouds covered the sky barely letting any sun pass through their thick shields. Hange mumbles about how we should have brought an umbrella and I choose to ignore her, not wanting to regret my choice to come out of the office with her any more than I already did.

The coffee shop, Maria’s, is only a short walk from the office and I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed it before. Hange mentions she just recently found out about it, but swore the food was good. She also throws in the shop is clean, but that meant little coming from her. 

Stepping inside the warm cafe I quickly survey the room, a habit that never died and probably never would. 

It’s a small, quaint shop. Pastries and sandwiches are displayed in a large glass container, the stereotypical chalkboard menu behind the kiosk has the drinks and prices written on it and there's some indie jazz music playing throughout the room. Not loud enough to be obnoxious but just enough to give the place a nice buzz underneath the sound of conversation. It's nothing I would choose to come in on my own, but it's tolerable. The place is well occupied for it's space, about ten or so people in the shop sitting and eating or typing away on their computers trying to get work done. That wouldn't normally be anything to note, but my eye is naturally drawn to a group of people all clustered around what looks like two tables pushed together. 

At first glance it looked like just a bunch of teenagers trying to get some homework done, but my once over quickly turns into a double take when one of them catches my eye. Never. A good. Thing.

 

Messy brown hair, smooth tanned skin, white hoodie underneath a black windbreaker. I recognize him instantly. How could I not, I've been staring at him sitting in this exact position for the past hour. Only that was through the safety behind a computer screen. Now he's not even a couple of meters in front of me, can look back at me. My hands immediately twitching at my side. I mentally debate whether I should slap Hange across the back of her head or if I should just turn around to go back to the office. _And then slap Hange_. I don't get to choose either though, because the second green eyes meet mine I'm nearly paralyzed. They're like open books, flashing from a bored gaze to one of confusion to recognition in a matter of seconds. Shit, how do you play off making eye contact with someone? Why wasn't _that_ taught at Quantico? 

 

I come up dry and opt to simply advert my gaze casually ahead of me, pretending to think about what to order while carefully monitoring the pacing of my breath. “Hange you idiotic spaz,” I hiss at her barely moving my mouth. “I’m going to personally rip those disgusting nails out of your filthy fingers. You have no fucking concept of boundaries. Erwin will help me dispose of your fucking body in the ocean. Nobody will miss you.”

 

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Levi," she says with an innocent shrug. I want to break her legs. "But I will say, there's an incredibly handsome young man looking right at us,” she tells me, as if I can’t feel him burning holes into the side of my cheek. “Hm. Take that back. He’s looking right at you."

 

“Eat. Shit.”

 

I step up to the counter and order a black tea and an English muffin, Hange following behind me and ordering a sweet caramel drink and some sandwich. I give the barista Hange’s name and pay for the both of us, despite her initial protest. Not because I in any way a show of generosity, but instead in an effort to stay close to Hange. The brat has already made himself out to be a brash little tike, the last thing I’d need right now is him coming up to me while I’m away from Hange. God knows what he'll try to say this time around.

 

We walk to the far back corner of the store. Past the kid who's eyes have been following my every movement since I walked in and into a booth next to a large window. I sit in the seat with the back to a brick wall and facing the back of the kid. 

 

Hange clears her throat, adjusting herself in her seat. I pull out my laptop and open up Eren’s webcam feed and the screen that duplicates what's on his cellphone. Following that, a notepad and pen.

 

She sits there awkwardly before opening her mouth to speak. “Well-”

 

“No, no,” I cut her off, wagging my finger. “He’s doing something very interesting right now.”

 

She cocks her head at me, furrowing her eyebrows. “What is he doing?”

 

“It looks like. . . He’s sitting five fucking meters away from us.”

She stares back at me biting the inside of her cheek, unamused.

 

“How did you know he’d be here?” I ask.

 

“What makes you think I did!”

 

I blink, long and pointedly. “I’m about to have a steaming hot cup of liquid in my hands, I’ll make sure every time you sit down to take a shit you remember-”

 

“I thought maybe you’d like to study him up close!” she whispers hurriedly, though her tone isn’t as pleading as I would have liked. She's enjoying this. “See how he reacts around other people, behaves in the real world,” she casually turns around in her seat to look back at him. His head is turned to the side and it’s obvious he’s trying to coyly look at us out of his peripheral. Try harder, kid. “Maybe you aren’t fucking paranoid,” she mutters, turning around with her eyebrows raised. “Have you really been compromised? Does he know it's you?”

 

I sigh. “Not necessarily.”

 

They extend further up her face somehow. “What does _that_ mean, exactly?”

 

“Hange!” The barista calls. Hange looks at me for a moment before reluctantly standing to retrieve our orders.

 

I watch Eren through his webcam stare at her the entire time she’s up, looking down at the papers strewn about him when she turns back around and makes for our table. I look up at the people in his little group gathered around his table and pick up my pen, jotting down descriptions of all his friends in case it became important later on or to identify them later for questioning. To his left is a girl with short black hair, her back is turned to me so I can’t see her face well but she’s sitting rather close to him, so she might be valuable later on. There’s a red scarf tied around her neck and one hand is playing with the dangling fabric. Sitting in the chair across from him is a kid with an embarrassing haircut, bright blonde locks framing huge blue eyes and an incredibly young face. He’s staring hard at his own papers, studying diligently by the looks of it.

Beside him is a girl stuffing her face with a pastry, brown locks tied messily behind her ears. She’s also looking down at some papers, though they're being shared with an average looking kid with a buzz cut. His head rests in his hand, mouth open and staring off into space.

Finally, a long faced kid with a red beanie sits at the end next to Eren and the buzz cut kid. He’s also staring off, but by the looks of it it’s at the girl with the red scarf.

 

Hange slides back into her seat, placing my tea and muffin in front of me.

 

“He ran into me at the supermarket," I say calmly, taking a sip of my tea. Not too bad. 

 

Her eyes bulge and she visibly strains to keep composure, cheeks turning pink. “When?! How! Does that mean he knows?”

 

“No. Well, I’m not sure. I think he just has the hots for me.”

 

She snorts. “This is. . . So interesting! What kind of Lifetime movie have you gotten yourself into, Levi.”

 

“Shut the hell up.”

 

She takes a bite of her food, chewing for a while before talking with her mouth full. “So, does Erwin know about this?”

 

“No.”

 

“Will he?”

I shake my head and take a sip of my tea, watching Eren over the rim of the cup. He’s moving his mouth, looking down at his computer screen, and I strain to be able to hear his voice from over here, though it’s useless.

 

“So, you ran into him at the store, and now you’ve suddenly come to the same cafe as him at the same time,” she winks at me. Gross. “You probably look like a stalker.”

 

“That’s essentially what we’re being paid for, idiot.”

 

Taking a bite out of my muffin, I watch as he takes out his phone and types a message. I immediately read it on my computer.

 

_To: Armout_

_dont make it obvious but the guy sitting behind us in the corner??_

 

My heart is in my throat. I want to look up to see which one of them is  _Armout_? But that would just give me away. I look casual, watching my computer screen.

 

_From: Armout_

_What about him?_

 

_To: Armout_

_saw him at the store the other day_

 

_To: Armout_

_tried to make a move_

 

_To: Armout_

_got shot the fuck dOWN_

 

I almost snort. Hange looks up from her sandwich, giving me a look.

 

“He’s texting about me to his friend.” Her eyes go wide and she bounces in her seat.

 

“What’s he saying!”

 

_To: Armout_

_doesnt he look familiar?? i didnt even get his name lol but i sweaarrr i’ve seen him somewhere_

 

“He’s asking if I look familiar.” I roll my eyes. “He asked me if we had met before, he must be convinced he’s seen me around somewhere.”

 

“Hmm, well you don’t really go anywhere besides the office. And Wall Rose when Erwin and I can drag you out,” she says giggling. Ignoring her, I look up to Eren’s group, quickly identifying that the blonde kid is the one texting him, his face down as he types away on his phone.

 

_From: Armout_

_Not necessarily? Maybe a little, but I can't place it._

 

_From: Armout_

 

_Don't embarrass yourself, Eren. It's only endearing to us._

_To: Armout_

 

_> :{ but hes cute arm i gottaaaa_

 

Cringing, I finish my food, taking a final sip of my tea before closing my laptop, stuffing it back into my bag. I ask Hange if she's ready to go and she gives a short protest about wanting to stay longer to watch Eren, but ultimately agrees when I start to leave without her. Tossing the trash in the bin by the door, I glance back at Eren. His green eyes are watching me. Imploring me to acknowledge him. I’m compelled to do something, something small like give him a wave, nod. Anything.

 

I don’t. Instead my gaze is caught by the girl next to him, grey eyes staring harshly at me. They’re wide and suspicious, her knuckles turning white with a death grip on a mechanical pencil. _The fuck is her problem._

 

I turn back around, the moment only lasting for a few seconds.

 

 

On our walk back to the office, the brooding clouds finally give. Water beginning to sprinkling on Hange and me, forcing us to quicken our pace. As we reach the doors, Hange holds out her wallet and scans the sensor in it to open the door.

 

“You know, Pretty Boy is way cuter in person. I wonder how that cute face will translate on a mugshot," she says, cackling. 

 

The elevator doors open and it takes me a second to move. A burn starts in my stomach, slowly making its way to my throat. I have to stop myself from saying something stupid. From defending him.

The people we monitor are usually the lowest of low. Dirty, disgusting criminals who used and discarded of people for their own personal gain. Pedophiles, drug traffickers, gang members, terrorists. We speak about them in the office the same way we talk about the shits we took that morning. If we didn’t have some sort of humor about the things we had to sit down and deal with every day we’d easily go crazy. Going to bed was easier if you let yourself grow callous. And that’s what I am; hard and callous. I wouldn’t be good at my job if my emotions were a factor in my day to day. It was even fulfilling, at the end of the day knowing I was cleaning the streets of scum.

 

But Eren wasn’t like that.

 

Eren hasn’t technically done anything wrong. And even if he was selling an illegal service, there are far worse people that deserved to fill those jail cells.

 

I push the thought out of my head. I had a job to do, and I needed to do it regardless of how I felt. Nothing was black and white or as easy as it should be. This was no different. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOw hello, another chapter in under a month. Bless up, y'all. (I also posted this accidentally l ma o sowwy if you got an email and were excited.)
> 
> I am an absolute feedback fiend and you guys are keeping that demon FED let me tell you. I appreciate your comments so much, my heart seriously jumps every time I read one <3 
> 
> this is an awful habit but I always check to see how many words i've written because I feel bad posting tiny chapters considering how erratically they come (almost as erratic is the way i talk in these end notes hehe), but this hoe is like 13k words so far and i feel v proud. proud up until i see a fic w 2 chapters and 50K words :-)
> 
> anywho, next chapter will come probably in a week or two, I have it outlined and :0 it's weird, hold onto your Jeans
> 
>  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay!  
> I wanted to add this in as some clarification that isn't necessary if you don't care about how realistic this fic is (spoiler, IT'S NOT) 
> 
> To start, there is so much about this fic that isn't accurate lol. I did a lot of research about FBI branches and what not, and the branch Erwin directs is the closest to Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services, which reports crime like white collar, civil rights, drugs, etc. I couldn't find if they actually handle sexual cases like trafficking/prostitution, but i'm guessing it would fall under this one?? I think. But what the real FBI and this specific branch doesn't do is the invasive surveillance Hange and Levi are doing -- because it's illegal lol. So it's all hush hush to the public, ya feel. And there is no way the FBI would waste resources and time following someone they don't have explicit hard evidence on. 
> 
> Anyway, technically their positions make them field/special agents, which comes in later in this chapter, but they're really glorified office workers 99% of the time.  
> The FBI is weird and I realize this is just a smutty little fic, I shouldn't be concerned about the small stuff, but it burns a hole in my heart feeling like I'm just writing out of my ass about their jobs lol I like accuracy.
> 
> Regardless, enjoy the chapter! just thought some of you would like to know that information

 

Bean was freaking me out.

 

I woke up and carried on with my normal routine, getting out of the shower and drying off my hair with a towel when Bean came up to me, meowing and running in between my feet. Reaching down, I make to pet the top of her head but she runs away from my touch, jumping on the bed and meowing angrily at me.

 

Retrieving a pair of boxers from my dresser, I throw them on and walk up to her, trying to calm her down. The moment I’m within arms reach she bolts to the closed door and scratches at it. Following to open it for her, she hurries out and down the stairs.

 

Deciding she must just be hungry, I follow her down to the kitchen and open the cupboard holding her food. Opening one of the many colorful cans of fish shit, I empty the contents into her bowl. She stands next to me, watching like she usually does, but makes no move to eat it. Normally she devours the stack before I can even throw away the can, but today she just meows at it.

 

“You didn’t even try it.” I tell her, tossing away the tin. Like a disobedient child she hisses at it. “Fine, you shitty brat. I’ll get a different one.”

 

And so I do.

 

Four times.

 

An array of foul smelling cans sit in front of the both of us, like an all you can eat shit show for Bean. She hadn’t so much as walked up to them before deciding she wasn’t going to have anything to do with them.

 

“Those aren’t cheap, you know.” I tell her, crossing my arms.

 

 _I’m having a staring contest with a fucking cat._ I think to myself, realizing how ridiculous this is. She meows at me, pouncing out of the room. Sighing and rubbing my temple I realize I haven’t even had my coffee yet, too busy chasing after Bean. The clock reads 9am and I realize I told Erwin I was going to be at the office right now to turn in my periodic report of the other pain in my ass. Instead, I’m standing in my underwear in front of a very fancy fucking feast trying to bargain with a feline.

 

Retrieving my phone from my room, I call Hange. She picks up after a single ring.

 

“Levi, darling! You know, your desk is incredibly comfortable. So neat and tidy.” 

 

“I’m going to castrate you.” I tell her, my frustration growing stronger by the second.

 

“Ohh, I’ve had that said before.” She says, laughing maniacally.

 

“That fucking cat is going mental, she’s been running me up a wall.” 

 

“Bean? My sweet angel?”

 

I sigh, telling her everything that had happened so far. The little demon herself coming up into the room to meow at me, bragging about her mischief.

 

“Levi, maybe there’s something wrong with her? You should take her to the vet to confirm.”

 

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to,” Bean hisses. “I guess I don't have a choice.”

 

“Keep me updated! I’ll tell Erwin you're having a family emergency.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

I hang up, tossing the phone onto the bed with a sigh.

 

Bean had been living with me for almost three years, an adoption that I thought I would have regretted immediately. I had always liked animals, but never had one to look after myself. On a rare trip to Hange’s house she presented me her newest project. A little black ball of fluff, she had only weighed a few pounds when Hange found her, but with a lot of patience and nurturing I didn't know Hange was capable of, she was healthy in only a few months. Bean took a strong liking to me and before I knew it Hange was persuading me to take her in. At that point she didn’t have a name, Hange telling me she didn’t want to grow too attached knowing she wouldn’t be able to take care of a pet full time.

I didn’t want to ask what that implied about the rats she kept.

 

“Bean!” she had exclaimed.

 

“The fuck kind of name is Bean?” I asked, scratching at the little tuft of white fur under her chin.

 

“It’s fitting, and look! She likes it.”

 

Sure enough, she had cocked her head at the name and began purring loudly, ignorant to the fact that she had just been given the stupidest name imaginable.

 

Taking me out of my daydream, Bean jumped up on my lap, clawing lightly at my chest. She was smart, tidy and a great companion. I didn’t want to admit how attached to her I was, but I didn’t have to. It was obvious.

 

Dressing in a plain hoodie and black jeans, I go to retrieve her crate from the spare bedroom that was essentially her play den. Toys littered the floor, a cat tree and her litter box were all that was in this room. She seemed content with it, and so was I.

 

She sat outside of the door, watching me grab her harness and leash and quickly bolted away as I walked towards her. She loved wearing this stupid pink thing, a gift from Hange, so why was she running at the sight?

 

No matter how many times I tried to corner her, she was able to evade me. I was embarrassingly out of breath by the time I was able to catch her, almost shouting from relief when I grabbed her. Holding her by the scruff of her neck, I put her harness on her with ease, attaching the leash and essentially dragging her up the stairs to her cage. Getting her in my hands again, she bit and clawed at me, drawing blood and going absolutely insane. I had to tip the thing and drop her in as a last option, shutting the door quickly. My hand looked like I had dragged it through a rose bush. She had never so much as swiped at me before, but today was a day for rebellion, I guess.

  
  


 

Arriving at the vet, I check in at the front desk and wait to be called back. I sit with Bean's carrier in front of me, sticking my finger between the bars to pet her, but she bites at me insistently. I end up letting her, not bothered by it at this point. 

 

A good five minutes of her chewing on me goes by before my name is called. I grab Bean and make to follow the woman who ushers me into a small room to wait for the vet.

 

I open Bean’s cage and let her out, picking her up and putting her on the table. She cooperates, even letting me pet her while we wait. It takes a moment, but soon enough the door opens.

 

And I swear. There's some greater, almighty force working against me.

  


A bright blonde mop of hair walks into the room, dark blue scrubs on and stethoscope hanging around his neck. As soon as his huge blue eyes land on me they’re filled with recognition, widening a centimeter or two. He stops in his tracks and I almost laugh. Of course I would run into one of that kid's friends. The one who he had talked about me to, no less.

He's more startled at the coincidence than me. But I suppose at this point I shouldn't be surprised at these unfortunate encounters. His cheeks go bright pink and he must realize he hasn't said a word. “H-hello, sir. I’m Armin, I’ll be taking care of your pet today.” He stutters out, smiling bashfully. He clears his throat before speaking again. “U-uhm. So what seems to be the problem with,” He looks down at his chart again. “Bean today?” He asks, fumbling with his sheet before petting her head. I lean back against the wall behind me, letting him do his thing. Touching her stomach in multiple places to presumably search for something. He presses his stethoscope to multiple pulse points on her, looking down at a watch on his wrist.  

 

“Are you old enough to be a veterinarian?” I ask when he’s done, eyeing him up and down. There’s no way he’s older than Eren, which means there’s absolutely no way he’s done with school and qualified for this position.

 

“W-well it’s part of an on the job training I’m offered at my school. I’m certified to do check ups, but if you’d rather I can get you a different-”

 

“It’s fine,” I tell him, waving my hand to dismiss it. “She was freaking out this morning, wouldn’t let me touch her and refused to eat. I called a fri- er. Someone I work with, she told me I should bring her in to get checked out. She never has a problem being picked up or traveling, but she put up a fight when I tried putting her in her carrier.”  

 

“Has she been using her litter box properly?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is it being properly cleaned?”

 

Annoyed, I roll my eyes. “Absolutely.”

 

“Any changes to her food or environment?”

 

I think for a second back to what I’d been feeding her, remembering that day at the grocery store. “I bought her some different flavor food, but I opened a quarter of her supply trying to get the picky brat to choose one. She refused to eat it.”

 

He hummed, stroking her. It annoyed me to no end that she wasn’t acting up anymore, behaving like she normally did for him.

 

“Do you play with her often?”

 

I rack my brain for the last time I did. “Not often, she usually plays with her toys in her room.”

 

“It’s important for cats to have their own safe space, but maybe she’s trying to tell you something?” He tells me, not taking his eyes off of Bean. She purrs under his touch, craning her neck.

 

“She wants me to play with her?” I ask, looking at her incredulously. No fucking way all this spoiled brat wanted was for me to give her a little more attention.

 

“Most likely. We can take a blood sample and test that for anything to be sure, but she passes the basic check up. She certainly doesn’t have rabies, despite what your hands say,” He says motioning towards them. “Think of it as a temper tantrum.”

 

He continues to prod at her, writing down on his paper. “Take as many tests as you think she needs,” I tell him and he nods, not meeting my eye.

 

“It’ll only take a moment,” He tells me, leaving the room before returning with a electric razor, syringe and a few tubes. I reach up and pet her behind her ears the way she likes while he gently takes one of her legs, shaving a square to be able to get to her skin. I watch him as he does so and his ears flush pink. He’s not much taller than me, full cheeks not helping him look his age. He pushes a blonde tuff of hair behind one ear, cleaning the area on Bean’s leg with an alcohol wipe.

 

I click my tongue softly for Bean to distract her while the kid sticks the needle into her leg. She twitches her head and I stroke under her chin to keep her calm. It does only take a moment, and she remains calm, even purring when he removes the syringe.

 

“Okay,” He says, wrapping her leg up. “I’ll give these to the lab and I’ll be back to finish this up.”

 

He leaves again, and Bean stretches on the table. “You brat.” I tell her. She flicks her tail at me, like she’s agreeing with me. “All this because you’re bored? I’ve spent more on you today than I have myself in the past month.” She stands on her back legs, front paws landing on my chest. She sniffs at my chin and brushes her head up against me. I stroke her back, happy she isn’t attacking me.

 

“When we get back home I’m gonna force feed you all that rotten ass shit, got it?”

 

“What?” Armin asks, entering the room. I shake my head. Cleaning Beans litter box must be infecting my head.

 

Bean jumps down from my chest, coming up to Armin’s side of the table. He produces a little santa hat and puts it on her head, fastening it with a little rubber string under her head. “We have a bunch of these since it’s nearing the holiday season.” He tells me, smiling at her.

 

She turns back around to me, and she looks absolutely stupid. The little red felt hat sits crooked on her head and she whips her head up to try and get a better look at the little white ball.

 

“I’d say she just needs a little more attention at home, even just tossing a toy around would make her feel better. We’ll call you in the next few days with the blood test results.” He tells me.

 

“Right. Thanks.” I tell him, picking Bean up off the table and setting her on the ground, leash in hand. I pick up her carrier with the other and Armin holds the door for us. “If she begins to act up again or refuses to eat, bring her back in just in case.” I nod, guiding Bean out of the room. She doesn’t react to the other people around the vet, walking right beside me.

 

“Oh, and Mr. Ackerman?” Armin calls and I turn around. He looks bashful, hands rubbing together. He opens his mouth a few times, about to say something before smiling. “I hope Bean returns back to her normal behavior.” He finally spits out.

 

I stare at him. _What is up with his generation and stopping people just to say stupid fucking shit_. “Right.” I say, turning and leaving the clinic.

  


Bean seems to have been cured of her tantrum, cooperating all the way to the car. I don’t bother putting her back into her carrier, setting it in the backseat. I move my bag from the front seat and Bean jumps up to sit in its place. Checking my phone, I see that Erwin had tried to call me thirty minutes ago, right when I left for the vet. I decided before I left that I would be stopping by the office, packing the report he needed in my bag.

 

The drive is a little out of the way, and I stop to get a cup of water from a fast food joint so Bean could have something to drink. I set the open container in the cup holder between us and she laps at it while we make our way through town.

 

Knowing I wouldn’t be leaving her in the car alone, I pick her up and carry her through the building, getting some well deserved double takes on my way. Reaching our floor, I let her down and walk up to Hange’s desk. She turns around and screeches seeing the cat.

 

“Bean! Is it take your daughter to work day and I didn’t know about it?” Bean jumps up into her lap and Hange welcomes it. I drop the leash on her, retrieving my paperwork. “Erwin didn’t buy that you had a family emergency-”

 

“I wonder why.”

 

“-But I didn’t squeal! I told him you were on a date instead.”

 

I smack the back of her head. “Did he buy that?”

 

She rubs the spot I hit, laughing. “Nope!”

  


Not bothering to knock, I open the door to Erwin's office. He’s sitting with a pile of paperwork spread about him, pen in hand.

“How was your date?” He asks, not looking up from marking on his sheets.

 

“Unsatisfying.” I tell him, handing him my paperwork.

 

“I’d say so. She must not have liked you very much.” He says, looking at the scratches on my hands. “Did you tell her she looked constipated?”

 

“That’s second date material, Erwin.” I say, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. “Bean needed to go to the vet. She’s out there with Hange.”

 

“Ah. That’s against HR rules. They are just one floor down.” He tells me, flicking through the papers I handed him.

 

“Hange is a big HR violation, but we’ve kept her around.” He huffs, smiling as he reads my report.

 

“Not much progress being made, huh.” He asks, turning and filing the papers away.

 

“He does shit all. I’ve been telling you that from the beginning.”

 

He nods, running a large hand through blonde hair. “I understand. Well, since you’re eager to continue with something else, we can table his monitoring until something puts him back under our radar.” He tells me. I sit up in my seat at the words. He finally wants to listen to me about this? Now? “We can simply bring him in for questioning, let him know he’s on our radar and return to it if necessary.”

 

I’m stunned for a second. “Why wasn’t this done before, when he was first put on the watch list?” I ask. Erwin quirks his brow at me, taking a moment to respond.

 

“He was high risk.” He says.

 

“High risk of what, leaving the country?

 

He stares, unamused or just uninterested. “We'll bring him in and you can question him.”

 

“Me?”

 

Erwin continues to look at me blankly. “Yes. You. It’s your case.”

 

“I’m cyber surveillance, I haven’t investigated someone since I started working under you.”

 

“You’re not green to the process, Levi. Why shouldn’t it be you. Unless you'd like Hange to do it.”

 

I blink hard, bringing my hand up to my temple once again. “She can’t do it either.”

 

“ _Can’t?_ ”

 

Great. “Hange and I both. Ran into him. He’s seen us.”

 

Erwin is silent. He leans back in his chair, hands clasped over his stomach, eyes downcast in thought. I’d come back to our apartment in college countless times to find him sitting in that same position.

 

“You engaged with your subject?” He asks, unnervingly calm.  

 

“Yes.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Erwin nods. “I’ll disregard the fact that you failed to include this in any of your reports, or thought you should tell me personally.” He says, hand moving to absently rub at his chin. “How exactly did this happen?” He asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

 

I keep my composure, knowing if I shift in any way in front of him he’d catch it. “He came up to me in the grocery store and asked if we knew each other. He had also messaged one of his peers about me.” _Who now has my full name, address and phone number._ “Hange and I both also entered the same coffee shop as him and he noticed me. Acknowledged me, even.”

  


We sat in silence for a while before he spoke again, deep in thought. “Well then. Scrap tabling his case. I want you to continue monitoring him. Closely.” He says, blue eyes boring into mine.

  


“As I’ve been?”

 

“Yes. Keep tabs on where he's at, when he's there and what he does. I want full detailed reports of his activity, no longer just what you deem important, since there are obvious discrepancies there."

 

 

"Understood." I tell him. He continues to look down, letting out a huff of air before finally relaxing his composure.

 

“Why _didn’t_ you tell me about this?”

 

I’m a little surprised at his tone, it isn’t reprimanding and he isn’t using his professional voice. Instead it’s soft. He sounds confused and almost a little hurt.

 

"I wasn't worried I had jeopardized the case. I didn’t think it was significant.” I say, and it’s a half truth. So long as it didn’t affect my case he didn’t need to know about it.

 

He nods, looking away. “You were wrong.” He turns around, shuffling through his filing cabinet and pulls out two manila folders. “Have those done by Wednesday.”

 

“Of course.” I say, standing to leave.

 

“And Levi?”

 

I turn, waiting for him to continue.

 

“The office Christmas party is coming up.”

 

I stare at him, frowning. “And I won’t be attending,”

 

“You will.” He says, smirking. “Consider it penance for withholding this information from me.”

 

I roll my eyes, shutting his office door behind me.

  


Back in the main office, Hange is using her phone to take photos of Bean, who somehow still has that stupid Santa hat on her head.

 

Coming from behind her, I grab Bean from Hange’s desk and hold her in my arms.

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

“Aww, but you just got here! I’ve missed Bean.”

 

“She needs to be fed.”

 

“We have a vending machine! There’s beef jerky in there!”

 

I mutter that she’s disgusting, turn around and leave.

  
  
  
  


Back at home, Bean scarfs down two cans of her food and I put the rest into a little baggy, storing it away in the refrigerator for her dinner. I sit down on the couch in my living room, opening my laptop and connecting to Eren’s feed. It was just after noon now, which meant he was in a lecture. His laptop feed showed him sitting with his head resting in his hands, eyes struggling to stay open and alert. His hair looked messier than usual, like he hadn’t washed it in a while. Gross. The scruff on his face was also getting unruly, starting to look like he was trying to grow out a beard. He rubs at his eyes, turning to his computer to type some notes, and I could see in the top right corner he was recording the audio of the lecture to probably review for later.

 

Deciding he wasn’t going to be doing anything worth watching for a while, I keep my computer open and push it to the side. Standing and stretching my arms, Bean sits at the end of the couch and watches me.

 

“So all you wanted out of today was attention?” I ask, crouching next to her and petting behind her ears. “You scratch me for the first time ever, run up a vet bill and then pretend like nothing happened?” Bean meows, leaning into my hand. “That’s what I thought.”

 

I jog up the stairs and grab a small ball with a little bell inside attached to a string and bring it down. Bean’s ears perk up when she hears the jingle and she jumps down from the couch, tail whipping back and forth. I smile, seeing that she really is back to normal.  

 

I sit on the couch, dangling the toy in front of her for what must have been hours. When she’s finally wore out, she stops chasing at the ball, watching it with her eyes instead. Resting my head in my hand, I yawn. Bean jumps into my lap, curling in on herself. Listening to her purr, I fall asleep there, hand resting on top of her head.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you guys get the joke. levi having a family emergency. but levi doesnt,, have family. :-))) hehe
> 
> last chapter i was like wow 2k i'm amazing yes
> 
> and this chapter,,, is mostly about Bean,,,,, ,,, and it's almost 4k. Lmao sorry if you don't like cats, this chapter was probably not your favorite. But the plot is thickening! i think! Erwin is one sneaky bitch i'll tell y'all that much. we'll see more of him, and the whole gang, next chapter! Office christmas party here we come!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanation for further in the chapter: Blackjack is a cards game where you (and a few other people) place bets against a dealer. You get two cards and can hit (add a card) or miss (skip) in order to make your score as close to or right at 21. If you go over 21 it's called a bust and you lose. In casinos if the dealer busts everyone playing wins, but when you're w friends you just give the pot (the money, honey) to whoever won.

“Levi, ever the wallflower,” Hange greets me, holding a red plastic cup and wearing a revolting Christmas sweater. The disgusting green thing adorned silver tinsel and little bells that jingled when she moved even just a fraction. Undried white glue seeped past some of the decorations, threatening to compromise the whole string it's attaching to her shirt and give out.

 

“The dress code was simply casual, eyesore,” I tell her. She laughs, throwing her head back.

 

“Someone has to have a little Christmas spirit! And your off-putting aura cancels out my effort, anyway.”

 

Must be a strong fucking aura.

 

Hange leans up against the wall with me, looking out at the small gathering. Tinsel hung off the walls and a fair few paper mache snowflakes dangled from the ceiling, dancing gently in the heater’s blow. A fold-up table had a green plastic cover on it and on top of that an assortment of store bought cookies and a suspicious looking platter of cheese and crackers. Red punch sat in the middle of it all, and it took most of my strength not to scoff at it. It looked like a primary school party, only the toddlers were replaced with _us_.

 

The party included everyone in our branch, which was just Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, and myself. Mike worked from home save for the two collective hours he came in per week to drop off and pick up his cases, and Nanaba kept to herself in her cubicle. Then the receptionists who organized the whole thing, and the other two branches working in our building: The Information and Technology branch and Human Resources. Together the room made up about 15 total people, though only half I knew by name. Everyone here stuck to their branch, typically.

 

“Levi!” Petra, one of the receptionists, greets, smile bright and friendly. She tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear, as she walks up to Hange and myself. Her eyes widen when she looks at the sore thumb standing next to me. “Hange, you look. Festive!” She says, smiling crookedly. Hange gives her thanks, nodding and taking a swig out of her undoubtedly spiked cup. “I didn’t expect to see you two here, this is both your first times attending, right?”

 

I nod. “First and last.”

 

Petra looks almost personally offended, deflating a bit. Hange doesn’t miss a beat though, clearing her throat _._

 

“The decorations look nice, Petra. You must have put a lot of work into this!”

 

Just as quickly Petra perks back up, smiling. “Thanks! Eld had to do most of the hanging since he’s so much taller, and we only had a couple of hours, but I think we made it work.” She looks around at the walls, and then back behind her. “Well, I’m glad you two could make it! Enjoy yourselves,” she says, turning around to rejoin the rest of the more sociable people there.

 

When she’s out of earshot, Hange turns to me, smothering a giggle with the back of her hand. “Jeeze, and here I thought I was special! Your socially inept personality knows no boundaries, huh?”

 

“I didn’t know you skipped out on the Christmas parties. Why did you turn up this time?” I ask, ignoring her jab.

 

“Aww, don’t you believe in coincidences, Levi? Maybe fate brought us together. It’s the perfect time and place to confess my undying love for you!”

 

I snort into my cup.

 

“Erwin said he was making you come,” She reveals, deadpan. “Something about _withholding information from him_ _."_ She winks. Yuck. 

 

“Of course he would tell you that. And don't do that again, unless you don't care about your left eye.”

 

“Ouch, too soon, Levi. Erwin also said that to make it up to you for forcing a mandatory attendance he’d take us out for drinks at Wall Rose!”

 

I can’t resist the corner of my lips turning up at the memories of going to the rundown hole in the wall. A frequent stop for Erwin and me in our college days. Pixis, the owner of the bar, was a long time family friend of Erwin’s. He’d let us play pool for free, happy to have the bar looking a little lively. Hange joined us soon after she declared herself our friend; a nuisance at first, the more she tagged along the more we got used to her and even began inviting her along. Along with the fact she’s a champion billiards player. Much better than Erwin, at least.

 

“If you aren’t scared that is,” she whispers, bringing me out of my memories. I look up, about to ask her what the hell she means by that but she hurries to beat me to it. “I know you’re a little paranoid about running into Pretty Boy. _Again_.”

 

“I’d be worried he’s stalking me if he came to Wall Rose. That’s not exactly a college student favorite. Not for kids of his generation, at least.”

 

“Now that would be a stroke of fate.”

 

I roll my eyes and Hange lets out a loud belch. As if that were his calling card, Erwin walks up to us. He’s in his usual white button down and bolo tie attire, only adorning his blond locks is a green elf hat.

 

“I don’t know who looks more ridiculous,” I say, looking between him and Hange.  _No contest. It's_ _Hange._

 

“This elf hat was going to go to you, you know,” he tells me. “But I thought it’d be a little cruel.” Hange erupts in a fit of giggles.

 

“Shove it up your ass, eyebrows.” More laughs come from Four-Eyes as she walks away towards the bathrooms. Probably to refill her cup with mini shots of liquor.

 

“Glad to see you upheld your agreement. I’ll assume Hange already told you after this I’d be taking us out for Wall Rose?”

 

“She may have mentioned it.” Erwin hums, taking a sip from his drink.

 

“Offer stands if you aren’t busy after this,” he says, giving me a look: _We both know you aren’t busy after this._

 

“I’ve been a little constipated, I might miss it trying to have a shit.”

 

Hange saunters her way back to us, cheeks rosy.

 

“Well, I think you’ve served your time, Levi,” he says, removing himself from the wall. “You can go take care of whatever bowel movements you need to. And Hange, if you’re done pre-gaming I can take you home after this to, er. Get some proper food in you and. . . Change.”

 

“Sure thing, boss,” she says, smiling stupidly and giving a salute.

 

“Meet up at Rose’s, say, 9pm?” he asks. I nod my head and make a quick escape from the room, avoiding anyone who may stop me to say hello. Not that anyone here would.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  


Arriving home, I looked at the watch on my wrist. Quarter past 4pm. I was only there for an hour and a half, but I wasn’t about to shirk the opportunity to get the hell away from that stuffy room. 

 Bean meets me at the door, letting out a meow as if saying ‘hello’. I crouch down and pet her, running my hands through her thick black fur. She meows again, waltzing over to the kitchen to demand her dinner. I follow and fill her bowl, watching as she eats it within a minute.

 

I go up to my bedroom, setting up my laptop and opening Eren’s screen. _Just to make sure he won’t be popping up anywhere he shouldn’t be._

 

It takes a second for it to load, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I see him sitting down on what I recognize to be his kitchen floor, several books laid out in front of him. He’s jotting down words into a composition, lips moving along to the music playing from his laptop. His hair is tied back with the familiar strays hanging down, unkempt. He looks like he’s been sitting there for a while, brow creased in concentration and hand flying across his page with ease. I feel unfamiliar contentment watching him so innocently and diligently focused on his work. Pulled up in his browser is an article explaining a book and he occasionally flicks his green eyes back up to it, reading for a little then turning back to his notebook.

 

I lean back against the pillows stacked on my bed, watching. It was admittedly relaxing to see him do something so normal and mundane. In the comfort of his own home where he was quiet and in his head, attention placed on his school work. He wasn’t performing for anyone, wasn’t laughing a little too loudly at some joke or meticulously molding his face to look happier than any normal human being should. His act was convincing, but it wasn’t perfect.

 

_This, however._

 

Scrolling on the internet, watching a TV show, laying down in bed staring up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like I was oblivious to the fact that what I was doing was peering in on people in their most intimate hours. It was joked about in the office that our jobs were to be voyeurs, but I never enjoyed it the way the word implied. And now, watching Eren be completely _himself_ it felt almost. Wrong? He was just a teenager who had been tossed in our waters. I felt like I was hunting for sport, like I was taking aim and about to shoot Bambi or something.

 

Déjà vu.

 

His phone vibrates and I jerk at the sudden disruption. Lost in my thoughts and staring at my computer screen, I was oblivious to the sun’s position. Orange light flooding in through the blinds telling me it was about to creep underneath the horizon. 

 

I checked Eren’s phone on my computer, reading a message from an unknown number.

 

_From: Unknown_

 

_I’ll be in Trost for Christmas. I’ll be staying only a few days. Tell Mikasa, please._

 

I look over to Eren’s camera feed. His face is low, reading the text message. When he picks his head back up his eyes are closed and his jaw is locked. I can’t hear his breathing over the music being played, but judging by the way his chest rose and fell unevenly it was labored. He locked his phone and set it down next to him, opening his now flaming green eyes and staring at some unfortunate spot beyond his computer. A moment later he’s unlocked his phone and making a call. _Mika-Mi,_ the phone read. It only took two rings before the other end was picked up. I move to tap into the phone call, turning the volume up and scrambling to gather a pen from my nightstand and a piece of paper.

 

“He’s coming into town,” he says. Thankfully Eren turned off the music on his computer, but it left his voice feeling a little too loud for the space.

 

 _“What? For the holiday? He never gets off for holidays,”_ the woman on the other end says, seeming to know exactly who he was talking about. Her voice is rushed, a little flustered.

 

“I guess he actually made an effort this time,” Eren says easily, pulling his legs to his chest. “He’s only staying for two days, but. . . But it’s been, what. Two years? He doesn’t even know what I look like anymore.” He laughs. The sound seems genuine over the phone, but his face is void.

 

 _“Eren. It’s been four,”_ the woman reminds him gently. Eren takes a moment before responding.

 

“Has it.”

 

There’s no question in his voice. He knew.

 

_“He can stay with me, over here. I’ll ask Armin if he won’t mind switching apartments with you for those two days, that way he won’t have to know you moved out.”_

 

Eren nods despite the caller not being able to see him. It's silent for a few uncomfortable beats. 

 

_“You don’t have to pretend this doesn’t-”_

 

“Thank you, Mikasa,” he rushes out.

 

 _“He’s technically my dad too,”_ she says tenderly after a moment. _“It’s only fair we both take this on together.”_

 

Ah.

 

So he’s got issues with his father. That would explain why the number wasn’t saved.

  


Then where did that leave his mother?

 

When the two say their goodbyes I grab a pen and my papers, writing down everything I’ve discovered thus far.

 

I wasn’t aware Eren had any siblings. That wasn’t uncommon, family usually wasn’t stated in our files, but in the extra reports I would have assumed the mention of a sister would have been present. And if she’s living with his friend, Armin, then that means they’re probably close in age and proximity. Did the other agents know about a sister and simply failed to include that in their reports? Their relationship seemed stable, but it was odd she mentioned their father didn’t know Eren was living on his own.

 

And his father showing up now? For the first time in _four_ years? He would have been 15 when they last saw each other. What happened to cause him to leave his children for that long? And what brought him back so suddenly?

 

It all left a bad taste in my mouth, but I push the part of me that wants to hold onto the unease aside.  

 

Checking my watch for the time, it read 7:22pm. Eren remains on his kitchen floor, unmoved. There’s a glossy look in his eyes and I want to snap my fingers in front of his face, bring him to the present.  

 

But I can’t. No matter how badly I wanted to.

 

Another buzz from Eren’s phone alerts him of a text message.

 

_From: Mika-Mi_

 

_I’m gonna come over. I’ll bring pizza and we can watch The Office. If you want._

 

Eren sighs, texting back an _okay_.

 

I felt relief, knowing he wouldn’t be alone tonight. I want to stay, watch him and keep my eye on him for the night, but I needed to get ready to go out with Hange and Erwin.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The pair are the only two in the pub. Pixis stood behind the bar polishing a glass and listening to Hange animatedly tell him something with her arms waving around. When he notices me walk in he gives me a big smile, causing the other two to turn towards me.

 

“Aww there he is!” Hange exclaims, waving at me like I were going to miss them if she hadn’t.

 

I take a seat on the bar stool next to Erwin, a glass of whiskey already in front of him with a single cube of ice keeping it cool. Hange nurses a martini glass, fingers playing with the speared olive in the clear liquid. Pixis is already moving to make me a drink, knowing my order never changed. When he sets the draft beer in front of me, I thank him.

 

“I was just telling these two it’s been so long since you’ve all been in here,” Pixis says, edges of his eyes crinkling with his smile. “I missed the company of my three favorite patrons. But business has picked up, people coming in to escape their families during the holiday. I even saw some old faces, but I’m not so sure they remembered me,” He says, looking at Erwin. They shared a glance before Pixis sets his now shining glass down. “Regardless, good to see they’re still around.” He wipes his hands on the apron tied around his waist, grabbing a book from behind the bar and settling down in a chair set on the side. Pixis always read when we were the only ones in the bar, occasionally coming to fill our glasses and ask if we needed anything else.

 

Hange flashes a deck of cards, which silently asked Erwin and I if we were up for a game of Blackjack. We both nod and carry our drinks to one of the tables near us.

 

“Levi darling, how is Pretty Boy during these times?” She asks, shuffling her deck. Another perk of the empty bar we frequented was the privacy for open talk like this, about cases and office gossip, courtier of the two biggest gossips themselves.

 

“Busy. How’s the hentai-loving drug lord?”

 

“Behind bars come this February,” She says, smiling proudly. “Alright, any bets, gentlemen?”

 

Erwin shuffles his in his pocket and brings out his wallet. I did the same, looking at the stack of ones, fives and 20’s. We always brought cash with us to the bar, both to tip Pixis and place bets on the card games we occasionally played.

 

We started out with 10 dollars each, setting the money in the center of the table. Hange handed us our two cards, placing her first face down and her second face up. Erwin has a 14, Hange a 5 and myself a 10. I hit, bringing me up to a 17 and Erwin does the same. He busts, getting a 7 and Hange hits twice, getting a 20.

 

“You call your subject _Pretty Boy?”_ Erwin asks, placing down two 5 dollar bills. I put in my 10 and so does Hange.

 

“You’re going to act like I’m the one that said it?” I ask, scrunching my brow.

 

“You responded to it.”

 

We go through the motions again and I win the pot with Hange and Erwin both busting.

 

“When does he get out for holiday? Maybe he’ll be a little more _active_ then?”

 

“Hange,” I growl. She laughs instead of backing down.

 

“What! I just want to know what he’s been getting up. Color me intrigued. He’s just so cute I can’t help it.” She clasps her hands in front of her, smile wide.

 

“Have I been left out of the loop again?” Erwin asks, chucking in a 20 dollar bill this round.

 

“About gambling? Apparently. You aren’t really in a position to be going higher on your bets,” Hange teases. 

 

Erwin swishes his drink and takes a sip. “I would like to hear your unofficial thoughts on the topic, Levi. Since you’re so adamantly against him being a subject of interest.”  

 

“Because he isn’t escorting. I think we missed our mark and are wasting our time,” I tell him, attempting to dismiss it.

 

“Interesting choice of euphemism. But I was referring to him being the subject of this conversation. Not investigation.”

 

Hange throws Erwin another card, smirking. “Bust,” I say, collecting the money.

 

“You can tell me if you’re having doubts, Levi. We are friends, after all.”

 

“I’ve already expressed my doubts, haven’t I?” I ask, exasperated. 

 

“You may not see it now, but you will. In case you’ve forgotten, your job is to build a case study on someone as much as it is to procure evidence against them. I wouldn’t bring a file to you if there weren’t answers to questions I needed you to find.”

 

I stare at him. “Throw me a bone then, what questions are there about a college student you need me to answer.”

 

Hange sits shuffling her deck, watching the two of us with curious eyes. I was watching Erwin with the same intent, wanting him to give in and just  _tell me why._

 

Erwin leans back in his chair, holding his glass of whiskey. “Your birthday is coming up.”

 

_So now he wants to change the subject._

 

“Is it? I wasn’t aware.”

 

“Considering people start decorating for it in November it’s kind of hard not to,” Hange says, downing the rest of her martini. “Are you going to make me come in through the window again or are we actually going to be able to celebrate it this time?”

 

“You’ve reminded me you’re supposed to be banned from entering my home after smashing that fucking cake onto my floor,” I tell her, staring pointedly at her.

 

“It wouldn’t have slipped out of my hands if you hadn’t pointed a gun at me.”

 

“When did you get a gun?” Erwin asks, holding back a laugh.

 

“When he met me!” Hange says, smiling like she was satisfied with herself. I correct her, saying it was only after she found where I lived. I motion for Hange to hit me despite holding an 18, trying to bust and help Erwin win back his money. I get a 21. Erwin hits and gets a 24.

 

Pixis comes over with new drinks, placing them down in front of us. We all thank him, and Erwin clears his throat. “Well, despite not wanting to celebrate your birthday I still welcome both of you to come to my house for Christmas. I'll even cook us a roast.”

 

“Lovely! I’ll bake us all a cake." I give Hange a look. "For Jesus, of course.”

 

We sit in the bar for another two hours, playing cards, drinking and chatting up with each other. The game goes on for that duration, Hange and I essentially playing against each other, what with Erwin's shit luck. Once Hange begins to slur together multiple stories about teaching her rats how to ask for treats and I had to kick Erwin’s chair to wake him up a third time, we all acknowledge it’s time to call it a night.

 

Erwin pays as promised, despite the pain the poor fucker’s wallet must be in after refusing to just quit and Hange calls us a cab. I sit finishing my beer and downing the rest of Erwin's glass.

 

 

 

Exiting the bar, I almost run into the back of Hange. She’s stopped just in front of the exit, so I have to take a side step to avoid her. I’m worried she’s stopped so she can throw up, so I keep my distance, but when I give her a second look, instead her head is tossed back instead of down.

 

"The hell are you doing, Hange," I ask, a little worried she's gonna drown herself with her vomit like a fucking chicken. 

 

“It’s snowing!” She finally says, eyes wide and trained on the sky.

 

I look up too, just now realizing that it was, in fact, snowing. It was only a light fall, meaning it must have just started. The wind is still and the white little flecks falling gently onto us makes it almost look like the stars were moving in the pitch black sky.

 

None of us speak, the soft sound of the snow falling onto the wet asphalt filled the silence between the three of us.

 

For the second time that day I get that familiar feeling in my gut. _D_ _éjà vu._ Only this time something feels off. I can recall it like a memory, watching the night sky with two people I can’t place. Their faces don’t come to mind, but their names are on the tip of my tongue. I close my eyes, trying to force the memory to become clearer. There’s a girl on my right and I know she’s smiling despite not being able to make out her face. There’s also a man on my left, body and blank features turned towards me. He’s said something, but I don’t remember what. It seemed important, but no matter how hard I searched I couldn’t find it. It makes my cheeks feel warm and my stomach flip.

 

I open my eyes and turn, half expecting to see the people in my memory there with me, looking out at the sky. Instead I look between Hange’s wide smile and the soft one pressing into Erwin’s features while they watch in awe the little flecks of frozen rain gently come down onto their faces and sticking in their hair.

 

I want to laugh at the sight of us. It’s not like this was our first time seeing snow, we were well accustomed to the four seasons. Though I suppose there was something exciting about the first snow. I can’t help mimicking their expressions, my mouth tugging up. Hange’s eye catches me watching them before I can look away or wipe the dopey look off my face. Erwin takes notice too, and a deep chuckle bubbles out of his mouth.

 

 

 

We left our cars parked outside of Wall Rose, knowing they’d be fine there for the night, and piled into the back seat of the cab. A little too close for comfort, the stench of alcohol on all of our breaths making me feel a little sick.

 

Erwin’s house was the closest to our route and he stumbled a bit getting out, waving us off and saying he’d see us come Monday. Next up was Hange’s. She kissed my cheek before hopping out of the cab, much to my chagrin. Were she not so quick and my reaction time at it's normal speed she'd be lying on her back. Maybe I was a little drunker than I thought, because I didn't even bark an insult. I wouldn't know Hange _had_  self control if the last remaining stands of it didn't all go out the window after a few drinks. And how that monster wasn't comatose after the amount of liquor she was able to consume stumped me, but she skipped her merry fucking way to the front of her door, escaping into the dark apartment. My house being the last stop on the cab’s route, and since I won the most money, I paid for everyone’s fare, handing the man a little more than I would normally give as a tip. 

 

Welcomed by the warmth of my home, I shucked off my shoes and placed them neatly by the door. Next came off my scarf and coat, and I decided I may as well just undress here, feeling a little overheated by all the layers and alcohol churning through my blood. I stripped down to my boxers, folding and carrying each article of clothing upstairs, tossing them into my hamper.

 

I collapsed face first onto my bed, ready to sleep off the alcohol and hopefully fight off a hangover in the morning. Without moving too much I drag my blanket over my body, but feel a stiff object hit my side. Opening one eye, I see it’s my laptop and move to chuck it off the bed, but before I do I remember. _Eren._

 

I force myself upright despite my desire to stay still, open the computer with a little too much strength. Squinting against the bright light I type in my password, getting it wrong a few times, and open his feed. I half hope he wasn’t awake, but knowing him it was a fruitless wish. His laptop was inactive so I switch to his desktop, finding him there.

 An episode of the office playing quietly on his screen and, to my surprise, he was sitting in his chair with head thrown back and eyes shut tight. His knees were brought close to his body and arms crossed over his chest, he sat there sleeping. Behind him in his bed was a woman, most likely his sister, lying horizontally at the end of the bed with her arms tucked under a mess of black hair. There was a blanket placed over top of her, a little too neatly for it to have been by her own doing. She must have fallen asleep watching episodes with him and he gave her the blanket afterwards, claiming his chair as his place of slumber.

 

_Cute._

 

I’m about to close my laptop and get some rest myself, but when I look back at Eren I notice his thick eyebrows were drawn down and his slightly parted lips were moving. I watched a moment longer and his hands gripped tightly at his arms. He must be having a bad dream.

 

I felt bad, wanting him to get some proper sleep. He was texting about his schedule to some friends earlier that week so I knew he had a final coming up soon. He deserved some proper rest to deal with the stress of testing and his father’s arrival. I moved over to my controls and intercepted his computer, now controlling his screen. I opened the volume on his computer and quickly shot the volume up, causing him to jerk awake in his seat. Behind him the mop of black hair also lurched at the sound.

Green eyes glassy with refinements of his dream, he moved his disoriented hands over to his mouse, muting the computer. Confused, he dry washed his face and turned behind him, apologizing to his sister.

 

“Must’ve hit somethin’. Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, tucking himself back into his chair. His sister checks her phone, probably for the time, before standing up.

 

“Here, I’ll go get on the couch.”

 

He tries to argue with her for a second, but she slumps out of the room ignoring him. It’s a shame I didn’t get to see her face properly, I wanted to know how alike they looked. Eren sighs, closing his browser and sloths his way into his bed. I watch for a few more minutes until I see his chest rise and fall evenly underneath his covers.

 

 

I leave my computer open, volume turned up and fall asleep quickly.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter I've ever put out holy cow. I am BACK and WITH A FUCKING EDITOR HHHH her name is also Jane and she is wonderful, bless her and her grasp on grammar. Find her and read her fics, they're actually amazing: Jyeen 
> 
> I expected this chapter to be out before Xmas so that we could get the holidays done and over with, but then i got busy hehe
> 
> And to sate some of your questions for all to read: eren and levi /are/ going to meet up eventually, this is not erwins elaborate plan to get levi laid, hange is 100% my favorite character and eren was in fact an escort. there wasn't some mistake that got him on the watch list, he was out there getting that shmoney. that'll all be explained further at a later date thought. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! 
> 
> If you wanna chit chat about how sad the new SNK chapters made you feel or just to show some luv feel free to follow my tumblr! It's Cutiepiejane <3


	7. Chapter 7

I had nightmares. All night, nightmare after blasted nightmare. It didn’t seem to matter how many glasses of water I had gulped down, how long I stayed awake in between them, how many times I tried to fall asleep thinking of something happy. It was one after the other after the other. 

  
  


I was looking up at a raining sky, dark grey clouds draining their supply onto my face. I could barely see, but it wasn’t just the water clouding my vision. There was something dark in there too. Blood, maybe? Thunder boomed in my ears, and I realized they were ringing. Everything sounded far away. The pitter of rain on my body, the sound of a stream. There was something even fainter that I could hear off in the distance, heavy thumping of hooves? It sounded like horses.

 

Accepting to the fact that my vision was shot and try as I might, opening my eyes wider wasn’t helping. I turn my head a fraction of an inch to get a better look at my surroundings, but a sharp pain shoots through me. I attempt to lift my arm, but I only get it up maybe an inch off the ground before my shallow breath is caught in my throat. My hand was covered in dirt and blood, but it was overlooked when I was what was missing. My pointer and middle finger were stumps, weeping gore with each faint beat of my heart. Whatever happened to me was going to take my life. My vision was beginning to fog over further, and I felt myself slipping in and out of consciousness. I’d will myself to come to, fighting off the sweet lull of sleep, because as far as I knew that was death. 

 

It was fruitless, though. Without even realizing that I had succumbed to closing my eyes, unsure if I would open them again. A sharp kick to my side causes me to jolt, pain running through my body from the sudden movement and the bruising hit. It took a lot of effort, but I managed to pull my eyes open. Blinking several times to attempt to clear my fuzzy vision and the remaining blood in them, I could make out a dark figure looming above me. The details were lost, but with a few more blinks and straining I could tell they were wearing what looked like a long coat with the hood pulled up, hands hidden in their pockets. 

 

“So you are alive.” The voice said. It sounded far away, but despite my half dead state and not being able to see who was speaking, I knew who it was. Though the crass tone was foreign to me, that voice could be distinguished from a crowd of shouting men. 

 

  
“Eren?” 

  
  


My voice didn’t sound like anything I had ever heard before; didn’t sound like it should come from a human. It was hoarse and dry, labored and uneven. It was barely a whisper, causing me to cringe. He knelt down next to me, mud squelching underneath his feet.

He removed his hood despite the rain, bright green eyes stared at me, jumping around my face with a cryptic expression. A hand came to cup my jaw, but the pain made me wince. I thought he couldn’t tell he was causing me pain with the pressure he was putting on my cheek, thumb coming to stroke my cheek gently, but the wiry smirk on his lips and satisfaction in his eyes told me that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

 

“Poor, poor Captain. Look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself in this time,” his tone acerbic and mocking. It seemed for every harsh jab he would juxtapose it with a kind gesture, demonstrated when he moved his head to shield my face from the rain. Water trailed down his face and collected on his pointed nose before dripping down onto my own. 

 

I flinch, my labored breathing turning herculean when he moved in close to me, grabbing my chin with a vice like grip. 

 

“Should I shoot you now and put you out of your misery, Captain?” 

 

A warm tongue licked a stripe on my cheek, my eyes widened at the action. I can see my blood on his wet lips before they ghost over mine, hovering just above them. My heartbeat was faint before, but now it was threatening to hammer out of my chest. I try to search his eyes, pleading with my own for him to explain what was happening.  

 

He must be able to tell from the look, pulling back completely and standing, wiping his hands on his pants. 

 

“Would you rather I spare your life? I can take you with me. I’ll make you better, Captain.”

 

My thoughts are muddied and coming in at a million miles a minute, but the least important one seems to come in the clearest:  _ Why does he keep calling me ‘Captain’? _

 

Eren extends a hand to me, and I damn the fact that despite his entire being screaming  _ hostile _ I find comfort in the gesture. Tan skin and bitten nails proof of a habit he still hasn’t been able to break, of an Eren that wasn’t some blood licking, sick fuck getting off on feigning amnesty.  I try to reach the hand that still has all its fingers, but it won't move, paralyzed and unforgiving. My body wails at the strain when I move my other arm. My two missing fingers surely would have been long enough to brush his, but without them I’m mere inches away from grabbing onto it, and he isn't budging. My body falls back with a thud, but I try again. It’s pathetic and I must look worse than a dog with mange, begging my owner not to take me out back and shoot me. 

 

“Go on. Since when were you the one to pity yourself?” Eren tells me. It angers me, and for a minute I think the fire building in my gut is enough to fuel to forget about the pain and just grab his hand, but when I extend a bit further, I realize the cruel joke. 

  
  


I wouldn’t be able to take his hand even if I could reach it. Not with the fingers I was missing. 

 

He laughs, and it’s barbaric. His laughs are normally sweet, mellifluous. 

 

Not now. 

 

He produces a gun from the back of his pants, and points it at me. 

  
  


“Time to wake up, Levi.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


I stand in the shower half awake, eyes closed as the near boiling water destroys all that it touches. Deciding hot water isn’t what i need if I wanted to wake up, I flip the tap and nearly shout as the freezing stream assaults my skin. I was right, though, I was certainly awake now.

 

I don’t linger any longer and quickly turn the water off, stepping out and wrapping a towel around my body, shivering when the equally freezing air hit my raw skin. To top it off, the hangover I sported was bred and raised in hell. It would bring Satan himself down to one knee in a plea to make the endless pounding have mercy. 

 

I didn’t even bother dumping Bean’s breakfast out into her dish, simply opening the can and plopping it onto the ground for her to eat out of. I took four extra strength aspirin and chugged a bottle of water before unceremoniously throwing myself onto my couch. 

 

Even with the blinds drawn tight just the thought of light touching my eyes right now was making my headache worse and I fling my arm over my face to block out any and all traces lingering in the room. Groaning seemed to help so in a few minutes it sounded like a dying animal had chose my living room as its final resting place. I could only hope Hange and Erwin were in as much pain as me. Hange would probably be fine, that woman was a tank. I vaguely remember her telling me she had come up with a concoction to cure hangovers, but thinking about ingesting anything she touched just made my stomach churn.

 

After about an hour of laying down, the pills begin to work and I got the first taste of what it feels like to be human again. My victory was short lived, though, soon after I hear the unmistakable sound of an entirely too loud ring bounce off the walls of my living room and directly into my eardrum. I can practically feel the vibrations stirring in my head, causing my headache to come pounding back. 

 

I couldn’t ignore the incessant ringing despite how much I wanted to -- and believe me there's almost nothing I’d rather do than ignore my phone when it rings. The sound was deafening to my ears and with my luck whoever was on the other line would just call right back. With a loud string of expletives falling from my mouth, I will my legs to start moving over to the offensive little brick. It’s an unknown number which means one of two things: Either Hange is calling from one of her new numbers, something I no longer bat an eye to knowing she changes it every few months, or its a fucking telemarketer. One way or another, I didn’t think twice about answering the phone as pissed off as I felt, the ‘WHAT?’ making my ears ring and my face scrunch in a painful wince. 

 

There’s a gasp heard on the other end, and I feel a bit accomplished knowing whatever shady fuck on the other line is probably pissing his pants. Tthey must be brandishing some hefty fucking balls because they don’t immediately hang up.

 

“Uhm, is this M-Mr. Ackerman?” The woman on the line asks.

 

“It is,” I bite out. Great, way to yell at women, Levi. Such a gentlemen. 

 

“This is Armin Arlert with Trost Veterinary? I was c-calling with updates on Bean’s blood work.” 

 

It takes me a moment to register the name, but it comes to me slowly. Armin, the androgynous little fucker. My guilt from yelling at a woman was assuaged to know it was actually a guy only to be replaced knowing I just screamed at a practical child. And a nervous as fuck on at that. I sigh a drawn out ‘shit’ under my breath, not going unnoticed.  

 

“If this isn’t a good time, I can--”

 

“No, it’s fine, kid. I just haven’t had my morning shit yet. Go ahead.” I try to force my voice to be as gentle as possible, pinching the bridge of my nose.

 

“Oh. Okay. . . Well, you’ll be happy to know Bean’s blood results have come back completely clear. There’s nothing wrong with her and she is perfectly healthy from what our screenings have told us!” 

 

I’m not surprised when she weaves her soft black fur around my ankles, throwing herself on her back and looking up at me. Little shit always knows when she’s being talked about.

 

“Right, I appreciate the information. Thanks,” I say, about to hang up the phone before the kid starts up again.

 

“Of course, Mr. Ackerman! Has Bean returned to her normal self since our visit? Hopefully eating well and getting in lots of play time?” 

 

I roll my eyes. “Yep, she’s back to being a spoiled brat. Thanks again.” 

I hope the finality of my tone is enough to get the shit off the line, but he just keeps going. 

 

“That’s great to hear!” A pause. “Uhm, I hope you don’t mind my brashness, Mr. Ackerman, but may I ask you one last thing?” His voice is a few notches quieter, and I’d thank him for it if the inquiry at the end didn’t catch my ear. I raise my eyebrow.

 

“Go ahead,” I tell him cautiously, suspicion lacing the words. I really fucking hope this kid isn’t about to ask me something stupid and embarrass himself, what with the way he made it sound scandalous. Rejection to whatever he was about to say ready on my lips, I wait for him to spit it out impatiently. 

  
  


“You wouldn’t happen to know who I am, would you?” 

 

My blood runs cold and for the first time that day my eyes were wide open. He sounded somehow sure of himself, his voice obsolete of the seemingly permanent edge of anxiousness to it. I try not to allow myself too long to be shocked, least I let him know he’s caught me off guard. But how else would that question catch someone? He couldn’t possibly be talking in regards to Eren, could he? Not about that day in the cafe, surely. I never made eye contact or acknowledged him and before that day at the vet I had never seen him around. 

 

Concluding I’m running on one of my newly developed paranoia tangents, I answer him the only way I really feel would be fitting right now.

 

With another question.

 

“In the metaphysical sense, or do you have transient global amnesia?”

 

“Transient. . . Did you study-- no, no. I mean,” he huffs. “Do you  _ remember  _ me.”

 

I almost roll my eyes. 

 

“You’re the pseudo veterinarian that did my cat’s check up,” I deadpan. 

 

Another pause, but I could swear I heard a sigh on the other end. 

 

“Right. Sorry for the odd question, Mr. Ackerman.” He sounds dejected, like he was expecting me to tell him I knew who the hell he was past a possible case of nepotism at the veterinary clinic. 

 

I tell him it wasn’t a problem, and run a hand down my face, feeling twice as tired as I was before.

 

“Well, I hope you have a great rest of your day, and we hope to see Bean back for another checkup in six months!”

 

“Likewise.” I hang up the phone, staring at it for a moment before putting it on vibrate and pocketing the damned thing, sitting heavily on my couch once more. 

 

Like the cushions were somehow triggering it, I get another phone call. Another unknown number. 

 

I pick it up and keep my voice level. Maybe the brat forgot to tell me something? God, I hope not.

 

“Hello?” 

 

“Hi, Mr. Ackerman? This is Stacy with Live Well data collection? If I can have just a moment of your ti--,”

 

I hang up and throw my phone against the cushions, stomping my way up to my bedroom. I’ll be damned to sit on that fucking couch again with my phone in the vicinity. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Eren was sitting on his bed with a hand hanging out an open window, probably holding a joint. Suspicions were confirmed when he quickly brings the crude white paper up to his mouth, taking in a large breath before holding and blowing it outside. 

 

“Eren you better not be smoking, we have things to do today!” I hear coming in faintly from my computer’s speakers.

 

“What are you, 16?” The woman asks, voice clearer now. Eren smiles bashfully back at her, turning to look back out the window. “It’s your place, do what you want,” she says, coming into view and sitting cross legged on the edge of his bed. “But you need to be sober enough to get everything finished today.” A beat passes before she sighs. “Is this your way of getting out of taking your antidepressants? I saw the, uh. Stash.” I can see Eren’s shoulders tense, jaw clench. The woman takes the red scarf around her neck and pulls it up. 

 

“Are you having nightmares again?” The feminine voice asks. Eren simply nods. “About mom?” 

 

“No, not this time.”

 

She nods, but looks away and directly towards the computer.  

 

Her face looks familiar, especially the way she’s looking at the screen. Narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. 

 

Wait.

 

She’s one of his friends. The girl from the cafe is his sister? They looked nothing alike, though I’m not sure what I was expecting. Eren but with more feminine features, maybe? Pale skin, jet black hair and thin grey eyes contrasted to Eren’s huge forest green ones. She was almost his opposite. 

 

I grab the pen I had brought with me and write her name down along with her description. Now that I have a face to go with her name and relationship to Eren I could search her up later to see if I can pull up any information on a Mikasa Yeager.

 

“Well go ahead and get your luggage packed, okay? I’ll go make some coffee. Armin’s stuck at the clinic but we're gonna go grab lunch with him after we drop your stuff off.” 

 

“Sure thing, Mika.” 

 

The woman stands but lingers for a bit, hand playing with the hem of her scarf. Eren was pulling a duffel bag out of his closet but stops to look at her. 

 

“You’re not planning on--”

 

“No! Of course not,” Eren interrupts, voice strained and rough. 

 

“Your ears are red.”

 

“Because I’m pissed, Mikasa! Why would you…” Eren sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m okay, alright? Go make the coffee, I can’t get anything done with you watching me like a hawk.” Eren’s voice softened as he went on and he flashed her a soft smile. It must have worked because she nods and walks away, still clutching her scarf. 

  
  


I grow uncomfortable watching Eren while he packs, especially after the small altercation he and his sister had. Not because what his sister was insinuating worried me to my core, surely. I push the laptop away from my perch and look over the notes I had opened next to me. 

 

What she had said  _ would  _ line up with what was written down from his other reports;  _ Abuse of prescribed antidepressants.  _ What had changed from him to go from abusing them to him hoarding them? Maybe he realized his mistakes and refused to take them. Or he was keeping them just in case he needed them? But that wasn’t how antidepressants worked. . . And I wouldn’t be able to confirm if what his sister said about his  _ stash _ was anything worthy of concern, considering I couldn’t just freely walk around his apartment and look for myself.

  
  


Although.

 

No, even if I wanted to he’s only at class a few days a week, and what with his winter break coming up he’d be home constantly. Even tracking his location the little shit only got out the house every few days, and he was never gone for very long. It wouldn’t give me enough time to search through his things and do so in a way that left no evidence behind.

  
  


But his apartment would by occupied another person here soon. A member of functional society, no less, who worked at a clinic and on a schedule.

 

Maybe scouting his domicile would turn up more information about him? Information that would be beneficial to building his case. Maybe he had a stash of firearms, copious amounts of drugs hidden underneath the kitchen sink. His computers were clean of anything incriminating, so there must be something hidden, somewhere physical and in his home.

  
  


God, Hange would have a field day knowing I was considering breaking into this brat’s apartment. 

  
  


I glance back up at my screen and saw Eren was making a complete mess out of his room. For every item he roughly folded and packed he threw three more things around his room in a way that resembled a tornado. My arms started to itch looking at the disaster, and I turn away, looking down at the organized piles around me. I began shuffling through them, tidying them further. He was an anxious mess. I wasn’t ignorant to the stress that came with having troubled family, I knew the feverish state he was in better than I’d like to admit. I also knew there was very little that could alleviate that feeling. You’d just have to distract yourself as much as possible, and it looked like his sister was trying her best to do just that, but ultimately you’d just have to ride it out and hope things go better than you expect. 

 

My head begins to ache, and I chalk it up to the aspirin I took earlier wearing down. I could probably just walk it off, and some fresh air would do me good. Grabbing my jacket and tugging on my tennis shoes, I slip out of my back door and breathe in the cold air. It helped a little, but I still had to squint against the sunlight bouncing off of the white layer of snow that littered the ground. It was just enough that it looked like a dusting of powdered sugar on everything, the sun not having enough strength to melt it yet and turn it to disgusting mush. 

 

I stare at the section of my backyard where a garden of vegetables usually stood during the summer. It was now just a desolate eyesore. 

 

A sharp wind made me shiver, but I stood rooted to my spot on the ground. 

 

The winter months never bothered me, if they did I would have moved away from Trost, but right now it felt suffocating. There was no reason for it, but staring at that little part of my yard began to make my blood boil. The snow blanketed over it in an attempt to cover it, but I knew under the white veil there was just a pile of ugly, dirty soil and there was nothing I could do about it. I’d just have to avoid looking at it until the Earth rotated on its axis and allowed me to fix it. 

Pretend it wasn't there. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit some plot set ups someone sound the alarm
> 
>  
> 
> i'm back hi hello how are all of you
> 
> for some reason i hate writing about seasons when it's not that season irl. kind of hard to immerse myself writing about snow when it's 80 degrees outside lmao.
> 
> you can find me at Cutiepiejane on tumblr! Don't be shy, come say hiiii


End file.
